


Still, He Smiled

by SnappleNinja



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, On The Way To A Smile: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: ...huh, Action & Romance, Bar Room Brawl, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Edge (Compilation of FFVII), Established Relationship, F/M, Family Fluff, Lots of plot, Midgar (Compilation of FFVII), Motorcycles, Not Dirge of Cerberus (Compilation of FFVII) Compliant, Parental Tifa Lockhart, Past Character Death, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Reno is lowkey fun to write, You're Welcome, so does tifa but there's no tag for it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29499873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnappleNinja/pseuds/SnappleNinja
Summary: “I see Midgar almost every day.  I’ve never forgotten.”“Yeah?  Well, good.  I’m sick and tired of your so-called ‘heroics’ turning the public’s eye away from what you’ve hidden.  A snake can shed its skin, but it’s still a snake.”==================================================================Happiness is only temporary...or at least, that seems to always be the asterisk attached to every aspect of Cloud Strife's life.  After a year of peace and rebuilding with Tifa at the bar, the slow yet tempting flood of contentment leaves Cloud completely vulnerable when a couple stricken with grief swears to make him and Tifa pay for the destruction of Midgar.  Though he hates to go back down that dark path, Cloud begins to wonder if he truly deserves anything at all.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 43
Kudos: 51





	1. Your Fear Feels Cold

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm actually not posting all chapters at once - imagine that. As of now, when I'm posting the first chapter, I'm already ankles deep in Chapter 5 so I guess you can expect updates two times a week, at least? This isn't going to be overly long, but will definitely have a higher chapter count than the FF7 fics I've done before. I'm expecting somewhere between six to ten chapters when all is said and done.
> 
> Plenty of plot, fluff, and conflict up ahead, so brace yourselves lol. Also, there's like very tame swears occasionally, but c'mon, this is Barret we're talking about. Not really my cup of tea to throw that in there (just a personal preference) but I've gotta keep these characters accurate, y'know?
> 
> Takes place one year after Advent Children Complete, but the events of Dirge of Cerberus either haven't happened yet or just won't happen. TOTALLY not me finding a reason not to write Shelke in here because of how little there is to work with for her. Totally.

The world was ending again, but this time there would be no prayer to Holy to save everyone in the nick of time. This was nothing that could be settled with a Buster Sword and some mastered Materia, nor was it anything within Aerith’s control from beyond the Lifestream. Certain problems had seemed so invisible before, that when the moment passed when early offenses spurred criticism, those involved were not prepared.

As the sun disappeared from the sky once again, ushering in a new night, Cloud and Tifa were restless, despite every attempt to let sleep overtake their thoughts and offer a brief escape. Cloud rested his weight on one shoulder, the side of his head rested on a pillow while he watched Tifa replicate his same position. They listened to each other’s breathing for a bit, staring into each other’s eyes with the simple, straightforward desire to communicate things they could hardly bring themselves to say aloud. 

_What happens to us if our lives are ruined tomorrow? Would we lose all hope? Would they tear us apart? Would the kids be safe?_

Tifa, like most times, was the first to speak, but not without much self-convincing. “Cloud…we’re both going to feel awful in the morning if we don’t at least get some sleep.”

Cloud looked defeated. He _felt_ defeated, too, and knew that Tifa was just a bit better at hiding that same expression from her own face. She looked sad, of course, but she was trying to be strong for the both of them. That realization punched Cloud in the gut, making him wish he could find the motivation to do the same. “They’re going to take everything from us.” He winced a bit after saying it, knowing how much hurt he’d see in her eyes, but he still looked anyway.

Yep. He knew her well.

She exhaled a long breath she didn’t know she was holding, her hand trailing across cold sheets to grasp Cloud’s own. It was a ghost of a touch, hardly noticeable if he had been wearing gloves, but it was the kind of touch to let him know she was there and would gladly tighten her grip in a second. He had needed that adjustment before, whenever he needed her to pull him back from a dark place. 

She hadn’t spoken yet, so Cloud continued, hating the silence that he knew she was hesitant to break. “Just when we thought things were getting better…” Cloud couldn’t help the way his face contorted harshly, making himself appear bitter and angry. He knew it was a look Tifa hated to see on him, but she deserved him as his true self, not hiding how he felt. “…we were finally happy and then fate had to pull some cruel joke.”

Tifa’s lips were wet, probably from how many times she’d sucked in the bottom one and ran her tongue across. Her eyes were shiny, even in the dimly lit room, causing Cloud to assume they were the early signs of threatening tears. “We just have to make the best of it. Be strong for the kids…right?”

Cloud didn’t like that answer. It sounded like a plan moving forward, when all he wanted to was to prevent any change at all. Of course he’d be strong for the kids – what kind of parent would he be, even after the Geostigma? – but that didn’t feel like it was enough. Because it left the painful, hovering question of _her_ , of _him_ , of _them_ , and he hated it.

More than that, he hated that the answer would be made for them sooner or later. When monsters stood in his path, he’d cut them down with a sword. When deliveries had to be made, he’d speed off on Fenrir on the quickest paths he knew, knowing the area by heart. When the close, sickening end to the Planet was near, he’d stood strong with his friends and allies, and they’d _won._

It _had_ to have been a cruel, twisted joke that a heartbroken couple from Midgar would be the ones to bring an end to all happiness – and end that Cloud couldn’t prevent. 

“Cloud,” Tifa sighed, sounding heavy and tired. “We’re to blame. We weren’t some sort of saints. Neither was Barret or any of the others.”

“They seem to forget that Midgar was your home, too,” Cloud refused to bring himself down to these people’s level. That would mean agreeing with everything they said. That he and Tifa were blood-thirsty killers who recklessly threw away the lives of those in Sector 7 for the fun of it. That they started a new bar and delivery service to blend in and hope that no one remembered their sins. That they took two kids into their home for _pity points._

Cloud felt sorry for these people, he really did – wasn’t being reminded of it by himself everyday already enough? – but at this point, that went nowhere outside of taking responsibility. What he could see was a couple acting out of emotion and using the deaths of loved ones as justification for seeing an ex-merc and bartender lose everything. He’d wanted revenge once too – he’d _tasted_ it – but when he was on the receiving end, he could think so much straighter.

“I’m trying not to believe that this is our punishment,” Tifa admitted quietly, her voice slightly hoarse from swelling emotion. “I thought that of the stigma once, you know. But that eventually got better, and I guess I never thought our past would still come back to bite us.”

“It’s not that,” Cloud’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had to check himself quickly, noting Tifa’s look of surprise. He was mad at the situation, not at her. He hadn’t expected his frustration to be directed at her in the midst of his confusion. “These people are _insane_ , Tifa. I’ve read that letter about a dozen times now. They want to take away the bar, shut down my service or at least ruin its reputation so much that I’ll never find work, possibly even throw us in jail and find a new home for Denzel…” Marlene would have to be relocated too, if Barret was given the same treatment. 

“I’ve read it, Cloud,” Tifa spoke seriously, looking him in the eye. “But there’s nothing we can do about it right now. They haven’t taken action yet, so there’s no use worrying about it until-“

“Until they do?” Cloud finished for her, finding it hard to believe that any of this was still real life. “How awful would that feel? Just… _sitting_ here waiting for the inevitable to happen.”

“Well, for starters, we’d be sitting here together,” Tifa huffed, trying her best to offer a small smile. “No matter what happens, I’m going to be by your side, and I want you to be by mine.”

“Of course.” Cloud swallowed down a lump in his throat. She was talking like it had already happened. Like the judge had already dropped the gavel and sentenced them to life confinement. “I just…don’t know what to do about this, Tifa. There’s always been _something_ that can be done to change the outcome - sometimes risky, sometimes not. When the time came to make a choice, we were willing to sacrifice something if it meant fixing things.”

Tifa’s face fell, and Cloud realized he’d chosen a poor mix of words. “What would we need to sacrifice?”

“I…I don’t know. Hopefully we won’t have to.” Cloud’s hand held Tifa’s tighter, making sure she’d never let go. “I know that’s wishful thinking, but I don’t know how I’d handle losing what I have now.”

“Honestly, they can _have_ my bar,” Tifa got out sharply, shutting her eyes. “I don’t care if they make it so that I never sell another drink for the rest of my life. What I want now and what I _have_ wanted for the both of us is for us to be happy. Even if that is so, so selfish…”

“Hey…”

“We’re not perfect, Cloud,” Tifa’s voice cracked, and Cloud noticed her eyes slowly brim with tears. “We’ve done things that can never be undone, things that will stay with us forever, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wake up each morning wishing that burden wasn’t still on my shoulders. Same for you. I just…”

“You feel trapped,” Cloud finished knowingly, echoing a promise he’d made and kept long ago. 

Tifa smiled, letting a surprised, breathy laugh escape her. She readjusted herself on the bed, nestling into him until their bodies were both pressed together and she could bury her face in his sweater. “I’m glad I can count on you. This time, I won’t even have to wait for my hero to arrive. He’s already here.”

 _That hasn’t always been the case,_ ugly thoughts circled around in Cloud’s head. He must have put on a pretty serious grimace, since Tifa looked up and frowned at him.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Ngh. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry,” Cloud sighed, trying to distract himself with the soothing feeling of Tifa’s fingernails gently running up and down his torso through his clothes. “I just…I haven’t always been here.”

Tifa, ever the forgiving one, shook her head, causing strands of her hair to tickle his neck. “You’re here now. That’s good enough for me.” There seemed to be another layer to her words, but Cloud didn’t expect her to bring it up. She had welcomed him back after the stigma with open arms, but that didn’t mean she believed in “forgive and forget”. Who could ever forget when the person who claimed to care about them most ran off without a word to die alone? Cloud was beyond relieved and grateful that Tifa was so willing to forgive, but knew that pulling another stunt like that could cost him his relationship with her.

He’d pushed her away once, so would she ever push back?

“I mean it when I say that,” Tifa chided him, almost as if she had read his thoughts. Sometimes, it really felt like she could. “This isn’t about the stigma, or Kadaj, or the church, or any of that. I need you in the here and now, Cloud.”

His eyes scanned the wall for nothing in particular. “Should I even go to work tomorrow?”

Tifa sucked in a breath. “I…I think you should. No use making it look like we’ve already been convicted when nothing’s been done yet.”

“You said you need me in the here and now,” Cloud interjected, shutting his eyes. “Spending the day running packages sounds like a waste of time at this point.”

“But would you feel any more useful if you stayed here?”

Cloud hesitated. “…what?”

“If _you_ – Cloud Strife – stayed _here_ – at the bar – what would you do?” Tifa emphasized the more important words, her breath ghosting over his skin. “I want you to really think about it, because the last thing I want is for you to sit here and sulk.”

Cloud blushed. “I…wouldn’t…”

“Mhm?” Tifa hummed sarcastically, knowing him all too well. She pulled back just enough to lift her chin and look him in the eye again, while her arms embraced him tighter. “I’ve always found some of your rougher edges to be strangely lovable, but the sulking thing?” She raised a brow. “Cute for about half a second, and then you might as well give it up right after that.” She was teasing him, of course, but the glint in her eyes encouraged a grunt out of him. 

“Guess you’re right,” he mumbled in defeat, but he found himself smiling at her. “Alright, if you think it’s what’s best for me, then I’ll go to work tomorrow. Should have plenty of deliveries on the list.”

“I imagine so,” Tifa smiled back, but there was a heavy revelation behind the upcoming day that made her heart heavy. One day soon, Cloud might not have long lists anymore. The couple had almost _promised_ in the letter to ruin the business in the quickest way possible, and that meant swiftly picking off potential clients by plastering Cloud and Tifa’s kill counts around for all to see.

“You good?” Cloud asked, his voice low and tender above her head. She brought a smile back to her lips, nodding her forehead against the fabric of his sweater. 

“Yeah…we should get some sleep.”

* * *

* * *

Cloud adjusted his goggles on his face after several minutes of the object threatening to slip off of his nose. Today, unlike any other day, he wasn’t in the mood to tighten the strap and quickly remedy the problem for the near future. With his mind racing and packages strapped down behind him, Cloud had one goal in mind: keep driving.

His next destination would be further than the rest, requiring Cloud to go out of his way a bit more than normal. Despite having closer deliveries still to get around to, he opted for the furthest one rather quickly after the first few just outside Edge made him long to see some different scenery. It wasn’t that he wished to escape what was still inside the city – not when Tifa and the kids were there waiting for him – but the ugly grey of it all did little to raise his spirits or take his mind off of the present crisis. Edge had never been the brightest or most appealing of towns, and probably never would be.

So now Cloud was treated to the open desert, composed of straight lines of orange sand and dirt that stretched on for miles. The heat bore down on him from above, actually serving as a soothing feeling that Cloud wasn’t usually accustomed to with Edge’s naturally colder temperatures. If this had been any other day without burdens on his chest and guilt tugging at his heart, Cloud would be having a really great start to his day.

It was a shame that the chocobo wagon had to ruin it.

Cloud wasn’t entirely sure how he hadn’t seen it coming from further away, but before he knew it, the wagon was veering into his path from the left, with a driver apparently just as oblivious as he was. With only half a second to react, Cloud pulled the breaks and jolted back on the handlebars. His bike skidded to a stop, coming forward at an angle with the tail end slamming against the side of the wagon. 

Cloud went tumbling then, rolling around about a dozen times before his body was splayed out on the ground. He could faintly hear the engine of his bike cut out in the distance, and the high-pitched gawking of chocobos as they found themselves tangled up in harness wire. 

Cloud spat out a bit of orange sand that he’d accidentally taken into his mouth, hating the dry, salty taste. There was a lot more on his clothes that he’d need to get rid of, but he only took enough time to brush off the front of his sweater and pants before slowly standing to his feet. Glancing at one shoulder, he noticed blood trickling down, and a view of the other confirmed a few bruises and cuts. 

Tifa would have a hundred questions for him later.

“Watch where you’re going, you speed demon!” the driver called out, his voice not sounding very strained at all. In fact, the wagon had somehow stayed upright, with only the chocobos showing any injury. The man was on the heavier side, with a gut hanging out from beneath a grey coat. His flattened black hair seemed to almost stick to his face, and the messy stubble along his chin had a few yellow chocobo feathers sticking to it.

“You alright, sir?” Cloud asked, hoping that he’d say yes and he could just leave. The man didn’t seem hurt at all. 

“No thanks to you,” he responded gruffly, dusting off his right shoulder. He was walking over to Cloud now, shooting a disapproving glare at the big black motorcycle toppled over in the mess of things. “Just what do you think you’re doing driving around here like no one else exists, huh? These are the finest chocobos I’ve raised all year, and I’m willing to bet they’re bruised and bloody now.”

Cloud was about to ask why he wouldn’t just check for himself, but didn’t bother making the issue worse. “Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” It was an easy answer. _“Very, very Cloud”_ as Tifa and the others would have put it. 

“Like hell you didn’t,” the man scowled, now stopping once he was only a few feet away. “No one has any right to be crossing this desert at that speed. I doubt that shiny bike of yours is even street legal.”

“This is not a street,” Cloud answered bluntly, realizing how it sounded. “And I’ve driven across here hundreds of times. Outside of a few settlements, there’s nothing for miles. Most people would take the highway since it’s faster.” This was true, although Cloud had a feeling it wouldn’t change this man’s attitude.

“Doesn’t mean you _own_ the stretch,” the driver scoffed.

“Never said anything about-“

“Just save it,” he threw his hands up in exasperation, turning back to his wagon. “Now I’ve gotta untangle these chocobos and hope they don’t look too bad to sell for a halfway decent price somewhere.”

Cloud bit the inside of his cheek, stepping forward reluctantly. “Let me help.” When the man cast him a disinterested glance, Cloud added, “I’ve had plenty of experience with them before. Handling two on your own is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Hah!” the driver laughed mockingly, shaking his head. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing? I’ve been raising and selling these things for half my life.” Still, he didn’t refuse the offer and eventually waved for Cloud to come along when he reached the front of the wagon. “I guess a second pair of hands would be helpful, though. Just don’t try anything funny with me.”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Cloud assured him.

“Alright, I’m gonna reach over this one here and throw the harness over to you on the other side,” the driver explained, waiting for Cloud to get into position. “Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, here goes.” The driver grunted before extending his arm as high as it would go, hurling the end of the harness back over. After ensuring that Cloud had a hold of it, he gave the other half a soft tug and nodded in approval. “Alright, just a few more times and we’ll have this mess sorted out. Gonna have to sneak this next harness underneath their legs, alright?”

The chocobos squawked in defiance, but the driver simply slapped them from behind, urging them to stand straighter. Cloud raised an eyebrow at his unconventional methods, but continued working. As the harness was passed underneath, Cloud grabbed it and untangled it from the rest. After a few more attempts, the mess was fixed and the driver cleaned his hands off with the front of his pants.

“Finally. Could’ve been a lot messier if I didn’t get so lucky this time.” He turned his head to Cloud with a frown still present. “You gonna get your bike off the ground fine on your own?”

Cloud resisted the urge to snort. “Yeah…yeah, I can pick it up myself.”

“Well, normally I’d have a mind to report this incident or contact insurance, but seeing as nothing is damaged and my chocobos are surprisingly untouched except for some sand I’ll have to wash out of their feathers later…” he shrugged. “Guess I’ll just pretend this never happened.”

“Fine by me,” Cloud muttered back, and he wasn’t really sure if the man heard him. Within a few moments, the wagon was already leaving, and Cloud was alone.

The bike most likely had some scratches and white marks he’d have to have buffed out, but that was nothing new. The amount of times Cloud had messed up the finish by strafing through narrow chasms or tumbling across the sand like he had done just then was a bit embarrassing. Fortunately, Fenrir was a bike that was almost perfectly crafted for Cloud’s bizarre lifestyle, with a mix of delivering packages and sometimes engaging in on-road combat.

He carefully tipped Fenrir back into a balanced position, kicking down the kickstand so it could rest up on its own. Cloud did a once-over, noting a few scratches that he’d tend to later, and left it at that. The packages strewn across the sand in random locations was what made his heart sink for a moment, and he quickly gathered them up. Some were in decent condition, while others had been busted open or crushed by Fenrir’s weight.

Cloud was going to have some unhappy clients by the end of the day.

A vibration in his left pocket caught his attention for a moment, and Cloud dug his hand inside to withdraw his phone. Fortunately, it hadn’t been damaged in the tumble. After unlocking it, a text from Tifa was displayed.

-= _Sorry I missed you this morning, I had meant to wake up in time to make you breakfast. I hope you can find something to eat on the road? -=_

Cloud hesitated before texting back.

**_-= Yeah, I’ll grab something in between jobs.-=_ **

After sending it, he decided to send another.

**_-= Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. You needed more sleep.-=_ **

_-= If you say so. See you tonight. -=_

He shoved the phone back into his pocket after a final “see you”, tipping his head up to the sky so he could let out a bit of air through his nose. If crashing into the chocobo wagon hadn’t been enough, Tifa’s thoughtful texting only brought Cloud’s current issue back to mind. He hated thinking like this, knowing how hard he’d worked alongside Tifa and his friends to have a more positive outlook, but how could he find anything optimistic about his reputation and future being held in the hands of someone who clearly hated him for what he’d done? They would take action against the bar and the delivery service; it was just a question of when.

Cloud wondered if any of the others were as conflicted as he was. Begrudgingly, Cloud strapped the dented packages back onto his bike and hopped on, speeding off in the direction of his next delivery.

* * *

* * *

Cloud wasn’t surprised at all when Barret came to greet him at the entrance of North Corel. The address was familiar enough, and it wasn’t very often that Cloud was ever asked to come out so far. There were closer mail services around who could be called instead of him, so it was always suspicious when they’d add themselves to his list. The man was practically pulling Cloud into a big hug before he’d gotten off of Fenrir, and after he was let go, Barret’s large arm wrestled him playfully from the side.

“If it isn’t the delivery boy himself. Runnin’ a bit late, aren’t cha?”

Cloud made a small sound of vacillation, his eyes turning to the sand as Barret led him into the town. “There was a mishap on the way here. Your package might not be in one piece, just letting you know.”

“Well, now that you mention it, your little boy arms _are_ covered in some cuts and bruises,” Barret granted, looking him over. “But don’t tell me those damn hounds gave you trouble, huh? Travelers comin’ through keep talkin’ bout em.”

“Hounds? Hmm, no,” Cloud shook his head. “There was a wagon, and…well, it doesn’t really matter.”

“I’d reckon it does.”

“Nope,” Cloud stated firmly, leaving it at that. “Gotta say, Barret, I didn’t expect you to be the kind of guy to order a delivery just to get me out here. Couldn’t have just made a phone call?”

“Nuh-uh,” Barret refused, and as they neared a certain small hut, he walked Cloud inside. “Sit down, Spiky, and I’ll get you some coffee. You _do_ drink that stuff, right?”

Cloud nodded his thanks before resting his sword against the wall and taking a seat on a rather weathered couch. His eyes glanced around at a bed that was probably just barely long enough to keep Barret’s feet from hanging off and an old television set up in front of it. “Eh, I drink it sometimes I guess. We don’t usually have it.”

“Oh? Tifa used to have a pot set out every mornin’ back in the slums,” Barret spoke nostalgically, smiling to himself. “Guess she musta got bored of it or somethin’.” As he brought Cloud a mug, his eyes shone a bit with more returning memories. “You remember Biggs, right? The damn kid snorted the stuff out his nose once. Made an awful, sticky mess for Teef to clean up on the table. I get a feelin’ it was Jessie who caused it though, what with the way she teased everyone.” He motioned for Cloud to drink up after handing him the coffee, and grinned as the ex-merc did so. “So it tastes digestible, then?”

Cloud’s eyebrows rose up and down as he took another sip. As he brought the mug away from his lips, he relished in the warm feeling the liquid gave him. “Eh, it tastes better than your last concoction. What was it – some kind of white, yellow… _glob_ , right?”

“Yer cold, man,” Barret shook his head. “And it was a cup of eggnog.”

“Mm,” Cloud nodded after taking another sip. “Yeah, that’s what that was.” He sat in silence for a while, looking around the room while Barret watched him amusedly. 

“So, you got my package or what?”

“Oh. That,” Cloud sighed, standing to his feet. “You’re not gonna like it, but the box gotta pretty beat up in the-“

“Oh, no, no,” Barret reached out to grab Cloud’s shoulder. In one strong movement, he shoved him back forcefully towards the chair. “Sit yerself back down, Spiky. And I was messin’ with ya, anyhow. You know what’s in that box?” He waved a hand towards the outside, waiting for Cloud’s best guess.

“…a can of nuts?”

“Heh,” Barret chuckled, seating himself not far from Cloud. “Close enough. I honestly don’t remember what it was that I ordered, just that I needed some excuse to get ya out here.” His smile slowly faded as his face took on a more solemn expression. With contrite eyes, he looked Cloud over. “The blood and bruises weren’t the first things I noticed ‘bout ya, y’know. Your whole face spells, ‘I got no damn sleep last night.’”

Cloud laughed bitterly. “That’s because I didn’t.”

“Lemme guess,” he paused thoughtfully, scratching his chin. “Spent the night worryin’ yourself about that letter?”

“Well…”

“It kept me up, too,” he spoke quietly. “All I’ve done these past three years is fight to make up for all the wrongs I’ve done.” Throwing his arms up, Barret gestured around him. “Just wanted to prove to the world and to myself that…that I’m deserving of _somethin’_ , right? That’s why I gave my sweet Marlene to you and Tifa. I gotta feel like I _deserve_ her, ya know?”

Cloud unfortunately knew where Barret was coming from all too well. “I do.”

“And so I did,” Barret cleared his throat, clearly choking back a sob. It was a reaction Cloud rarely saw from the big, tough AVALANCHE leader, but it still happened. “I gave up gettin’ to be her father for these past three years cuz I wanted to earn her back. But…but none ‘a that could ever make up for what I’ve done. What you’ve done. What’s Tifa’s done.” Angrily, the man held his hands above his head, almost clawing at his scalp. “ _Three years_ , I’ve spent beatin’ my own ass about all that. Three years, I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that the guilt and shame don’t ever leave ya after it’s said and done.”

Cloud knew he needed to take control of the situation, noting the pained look in Barret’s eyes and the way his knees were locking up the way they did before he punched something. “Barret, you…you don’t have to tell me. I know.”

Barret huffed. “You always been that way, haven’t cha? Never really talkin’ much, but almost a _lways_ seein’ things in people that others don’t. Well…maybe that’s a stretch. You can be pretty oblivious at times.” His tone was fortunately a bit lighter now, and he looked like he might start smiling again.

“Might be Tifa rubbing off on me,” Cloud admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “ _She’s_ the one who seems to see everything going on, and I’m left standing there with a hundred questions and no answers.”

Barret actually laughed. It was short and a bit dry, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “I figure that’s why she’s so good for you, man. You’re the man of a million questions – in more ways than one – and she’s the only person on this whole planet who understands what goes on in that head of yours. You suddenly start acting like a wild chocobo some mornin’, and she’ll somehow be able to figure you out.”

Cloud raised a brow. “Strange example.”

“What I’m gettin’ at is that she gets _you,”_ Barret emphasized. “I’m assumin’ you’ve talked to her? About the letter?”

“Not as much as I probably should have,” Cloud admitted shyly, glancing downward. “But as much as she wanted to, I guess. I offered to stay home, but she sent me out anyway – said I shouldn’t start acting like something has already happened.”

“Or she just thinks you’re a pain in the ass when you’re all grouchy and stuff, so she kicked ya out,” Barret teased, throwing his head back in another laugh. “Get used to it, Spiky. You could find a woman who somehow loves _all_ of your qualities, good or bad, and she’ll still wanna find reasons to get you out of the house sometimes.”

“Tifa’s not like other women,” Cloud protested, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s making sure that I don’t react to all this in a way I’ll regret later.”

“Hmm. Be thankful for that. Wait, you sayin’ you’d punch a wall or somethin’?”

After some consideration, Cloud gave a small smirk. “…or something.”

“Damn fool,” Barret grumbled. “I’d hate to see where you’d be nowadays without Teef and the kids.” He broke into another laugh. “Wait, no, I can see it now. You’re in a boring, small apartment with a bed and a bathroom. That’s it – just that, cuz I know you can’t decorate for the life of ya.”

“Hilarious…”

“And there’s seven holes in one wall that get a bit deeper every day. One hole for each day of the week.”

“We talking about me or _you_ now?”

“No, it’s still you,” Barret mused. “You’d probably still be doing merc jobs, too. Runnin’ around chasing after stray dogs cuz you mistook them for an actual threat.”

“Maybe I should just leave…”

“No, no, stay seated,” Barret rolled his eyes. “I’m messing with you. You know I only get under your skin cuz it keeps you sharp, right?”

“Or because you find it amusing?”

“That too,” Barret hummed to himself. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you here too long if you’ve got more busted up packages to deliver to some happy people, but I wanted to let you know about somethin’.”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna come to the bar tomorrow, bright and early. You know…to see Marlene?”

“Of course,” Cloud nodded. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“It’s just that with everything going on…and this crazy couple making threats and saying they’ll sue for that stupidly large amount ‘a money….” Barret paused before continuing. “I need to see her again, man. I might not get another chance.”

“Don’t say that.”

“You know damn well that the possibility is realer than anythin’ else on the table,” Barret pointed a finger at Cloud, but it was clear his anger was directed elsewhere. “Don’t lie to Tifa, or to me, and definitely not to Marlene.” Covering up threatening tears, Barret sighed. “We both got a responsibility to tell the truth to ‘em, no matter how much it hurts.”

Cloud frowned. “I never meant it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You’re a good kid, Cloud, but you don’t always handle these things the right way.” Brutally honest until the end. “Your family needs you more than ever. They need your words of encouragement, your honesty, your care…” Crossing the room until he was just a foot away, Barret shoved his finger into Cloud’s chest pointedly. “…and most importantly, what’s in here. There’s a beautiful bartender who looks to you as the leader of the home. You love that girl, don’t ya?”

Cloud stumbled over his words a bit. “I…”

“Don’t ya?” Barret repeated, louder this time.

“Yes,” Cloud stated firmly, smiling a bit as he felt no embarrassment in doing so. It was the truth. 

“Then, no matter what hellfire comes down sooner or later, make sure that _that’s_ what she can hold to most,” Barret nodded, folding his arms contentedly. “Make sure she _knows_ , before a time comes when you can’t tell her.”

Cloud swallowed hard. “You’re right.”

“Then, I’ll see you in the mornin’, Spiky,” Barret clapped Cloud on the back, leading him out of the hut. “Make sure to tell Marlene that I’m comin’, alright? I usually like to keep it a surprise, but not this time.”

“Sure thing.” Cloud waved goodbye over his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the outside air. “You still want your busted package?”

“Ya kiddin’? Yes.” Barret chuckled, holding up a hand before Cloud tossed it over to him. His eyes danced over the front, full of disbelief and further amusement. “And just _how_ did this happen again? You were at the chocobo races or somethin’, eh?” His laughter slowly trailed away as Cloud continued to leave.

“Goodbye, Barret,” Cloud called back, ignoring the question. After he could hear footsteps retreating in the opposite direction, Cloud’s shoulders slumped and he faced his bike. Fenrir sat in the open sun, with light reflecting off of the black plating. Riding away looked even more appealing than it had that morning, yet the weight of what Barret had said held Cloud’s feet firmly to the ground. He had spent so much time wondering about what he and Tifa deserved, but was that what was really at stake?

No. _No._ It shouldn’t _matter_ what she deserved, should it? Cloud gripped Fenrir’s handlebars tightly, almost as tight as he would hold his sword. If Barret was right, and he needed to make sure Tifa was fully confident in how he felt, then he needed to make another trip.

After a few moments of dialing a number Cloud purposely never saved into his phone’s contacts, he brought the device to his ear and listened to the dial tone repeat itself over and over.

Finally, a voice responded. _“This is Reeve.”_

“Reeve, this is Cloud. I need you to find me an address.”

There was a thoughtful pause before Reeve spoke again _. “I’m hoping this doesn’t have to do with that couple who’s suing the bar…?”_

“It does,” Cloud responded simply, putting all other hopes to rest. “I need their address.”

_“Cloud…they’ll use it as further evidence against you.”_

“Against me, maybe,” Cloud shrugged. His focus was on Tifa, Barret, and the kids. Why would he let this stop him now? “I need to pay them a visit. Talk things out face to face.”

_“And you think they’d change their minds?”_

“In the very least, I should be able to get them to listen.”

 _“I can do some digging, I guess, but it will take time,”_ Reeve sighed. Cloud could hear the faint sound of papers ruffling around in the background. _“I’ve backed you up in the past, but if your plan blows up in your face, I won’t be able to help you.”_

“I understand.”

_“Then I’ll call you back soon. Try to stay out of trouble while I work.”_

“You know me,” Cloud laughed, his voice dry. “I don’t usually get a say in the matter.”

_“This time, for your sake and Tifa’s, let’s hope tonight can be an exception.”_

Cloud peered up at the sky, noticing the sun lowering behind the distant hills. “Yeah. We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you all get biker delivery boy Cloud. Happy Wednesday


	2. All of These Things Stripped Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmm yes posting this too early because my weekend is about to be hectic and I probably won't be able to post later so yeahhhh
> 
> enjoy bar fight lol

Driving endlessly across Gaia while waiting for Reeve’s response had sounded extremely tempting at first, but Cloud eventually gave in and decided to find someplace to stop and kill time. Fenrir would run out of fuel at some point, and without any idea of where the couple lived, Cloud knew he shouldn’t stray too far. He was already far enough from his own home as it was.

He stopped at a bar in Junon, shaking his head low at the sight of the place. It had definitely been fixed up since Weapon’s attack, but there was a certain layer of Shinra scum that would never be fully scraped off. It wasn’t the most settling feeling, but Cloud no longer needed to feel on edge about the place. As he parked Fenrir and left it in the parking lot, he readjusted his Fusion Sword on his back. The smell of wet fish caught his attention for a moment, his eyes glancing over at a pair of locals who were seated on the edge of the precipice, their legs dangling over above the water.

Cloud began walking, deciding it best to make a clean transition as a small crowd passed by from a nearby restaurant. He faded into the multitude, turning his body sideways at times to avoid accidentally whacking anyone with the end of his weapon. He heard a few murmurs from behind him, but thought nothing of it. After all, he wasn’t here to stay. Whatever impression he made would be irrelevant as soon as he left town.

The bar he approached was a bit larger than Seventh Heaven, and as the crowd dispersed around him, he could get a better look. The building was mostly colored a baby blue, with wood trim around the windows and doors. A few posters were placed on the side with headlines like, “LOST DOG” or “SEE THE MANAGER FOR HIRING INFORMATION.”  It all seemed a bit excessive since they covered up most of the windows.

Cloud pushed the doors open, feeling them swing away from his hands and instantly pull back once he passed through. The inside of the bar was already a big contrast to what he was used to. The room was lit mainly by low blue and red overhead lights, and none of the decoration pulled off the same warmth and welcome that Seventh Heaven had as soon as you walked inside. Cloud’s ears were first treated to the sounds of a pool table being used off to the side, and then the sounds of a handful of guys laughing in the corner. 

Cloud kept walking, noticing a brief wave of quiet as people turned their heads to look him over, and before Cloud’s next breath, it all went back to normal. Cloud preferred it that way. The giant sword would almost always gain some raised eyebrows or muffled comments, but after what had happened almost three years ago, it wasn’t such a strange sight after all. 

“What would you like?” the bartender asked as Cloud took one of the barstools. He was a man, probably in his forties, with a black goatee and slicked back hair, not that there was much hair left to work with. Cloud couldn’t help but frown at the _major_ downgrade. Then again, who could compare to Tifa?

“Something light,” Cloud requested, keeping his voice low. He needed to go back outside and drive again pretty soon, and he assumed Tifa would have a fit about breaking that kind of law. He couldn’t blame her, although he’d crossed that line before when late night calls summoned him back onto the streets long after he was supposed to be in bed. 

They had been _her_ drinks, too, and as the bartender turned away to prepare something for him, Cloud propped his elbows on the table. Hopefully the drink would at least taste decent, or he’d feel cheated out of his gil. Was it being too unrealistic to automatically compare other bars to Tifa’s? Cloud smiled a bit to himself. In her own way, she’d spoiled him these past few years.

“There ya go,” the bartender caught Cloud’s attention back before sliding the drink down to him. 

Cloud nodded his thanks before taking a sip. Upon feeling like the beverage was bubbling up on his tongue, Cloud’s face contorted and he set the drink down. He swallowed what was already swishing around in his mouth, but went no further than that. He’d asked for something light, sure, but he hadn’t been expecting it to taste like sparkling water with a bit of alcohol mixed in. A little known secret was that Cloud actually _despised_ sparkling water, although he never told Tifa each time she had it out for dinner. She must have read him pretty well though, even during their first year living together, since she eventually set it out for herself and the kids while handing him something different.

_This is my first time drinking the stuff in two years_ , Cloud found the thought slightly amusing. Of course, with his luck, the cruel hand of fate would bring back this hated drink just as so much else was going wrong at the same time. He refused to believe that these things happened because of the things he’d done in the past – since finding peace over Aerith and Zack, he no longer felt that way – but his imagination still went down that path sometimes. 

It was a _dark,_ consuming path, and one that Cloud knew all too well and wanted to keep everyone he cared about from ever coming near. That was why he needed to stay here waiting for Reeve’s call. He would drive to the couple’s home, talk to them in as civilized and respectful of a tone as he could muster, and hope to come to some sort of understanding. That way, Tifa and the others would never have a reason to think the way he had before. Prevent the couple from doing any harm, prevent dangerous thoughts from crossing anyone’s minds. Simple, right?

“Hey, buddy,” a gruff voice from behind Cloud announced someone else’s arrival. As Cloud turned to look, the man rested a firm hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “I hear you’re that ex-SOLDIER involved in what went down three years ago, eh?”

Cloud collected himself before he could impulsively shove the man away. _Ex-SOLDIER._ It was a common misconception, and one that was only further encouraged by his past self believing it to be true. People close to him would know the difference between that Cloud and the one of the present, but outside of friendly relations, most of the world had no reason to believe there was a difference.

So Cloud didn’t bother correcting him. “Who wants to know?”

The man just laughed. “Oh, I know them Mako eyes when I see them, kid.” His hand grasped Cloud’s shoulder tighter before the blonde shoved his arm away. “Eh, what’s that for, huh? I’m just curious.”

“I thought you noticed the eyes,” Cloud retorted, still refusing to give the man the satisfaction of even turning his head in his direction. “You sound pretty confident that you’re right.”

The man actually made a small hum of agreement, nodding his head. “Fair enough. Guess ‘curious’ ain’t the right word, more like…” He paused, drawing out the last word for a bit, “…’interested in beating you into a pulp.’”

Cloud rolled his eyes harder than he had after any of Yuffie’s terrible jokes. These were _real_ words spoken by a _real_ human being. The whole world seemed to be running out of interesting material. Cloud’s shoulders relaxed, not really taking the threat to heart. “The last thing I’m here for is a fight. Let me drink alone.”

“I don’t think you’ve hardly taken a sip,” the man pointed out. “And I’m not the only one lookin’ for some action here either.” His comment was followed by sounds of interest all around the bar. Several men stood up from their seats, cracking their knuckles in anticipation. “Let’s see, we’ve got one, two, three…” the man trailed off as he counted the men around the bar, and then smirked at the total. “…fifteen guys in here, pal. Is that enough for you to take me by my word?”

Cloud pondered a reaction, wanting to avoid a fight as much as possible. “Just leave me be. I didn’t do anything to you.”

A long “ _OOOOOOooohhh”_ echoed throughout the bar, followed by sounds of distaste and indignation. The man’s breath hitched for a moment, his laid-back personality quickly being replaced by one of anger and impulse. “You haven’t _done_ anything? Oh ho _ho_ , that is a _good_ one. Maybe I should show you some pictures of Midgar just to rack that SOLDIER brain of yours, huh?”

Cloud shifted awkwardly. He hadn’t wanted it to go this way. “I see Midgar almost every day. I’ve never forgotten.”

“Yeah? Well, good,” the man laughed bitterly. “At least you’ve had these past few years for that ugly guilt to settle before coming in here. I’m sick and tired of your so-called ‘heroics’ turning the public’s eye away from what you’ve _hidden_.” The man’s voice had gone a bit raspy, with pure hatred trailing off of his tongue. Cloud still hadn’t turned his head, but he could already feel piercing eyes staring him down. “A snake can shed its skin, but it’s still a snake.”

Cloud finally stood up, sensing the man step back just a bit as he did so. Finally turning around, Cloud examined the room and the various eyes watching his every move. “I’m leaving now.” Taking advantage of their brief surprise, Cloud quickly walked towards the door. Unsurprisingly, one of the men still slid in front to guard the entrance with their arms spread wide.

“The only way you’re leaving is in a bodybag,” one of the approaching drinkers slurred, clearly quite drunk. 

Cloud glanced back over his shoulder and noticed the bartender shooting similar looks. Cloud wondered if he’d been given that disgusting sparkling water beer just because everyone in the place hated him. There was no way they normally served it like that.

Or maybe it was because _Tifa_ never served it like that. Yeah. That was probably it.

A fist came rocketing at Cloud’s face, cutting him out of his thoughts just quick enough for Cloud to catch the hand with his own. The soft yet satisfying clap of skin served as a warning call for everyone else, right as the man’s knuckle was stopped in its tracks by Cloud’s palm. Quickly, and without taking his time like he normally would without fourteen other men surrounding him, Cloud brought the hand and its connected arm behind the man’s back, twisting it in the direction it was never supposed to go. Cloud could hardly pay attention to the wail of pain as he whipped around to duck under a punch from someone else and follow up with a clean jab at the chest. 

With that man stumbling back, Cloud kicked away another right before the same one from before ran towards him like a rushing ox. Cloud had faced opponents even more irrational than this one, and so it only took a moment to reposition himself perfectly to grab the man’s shoulders as he came and hoist himself over his head. The man crashed into two of the others, as could be expected after Cloud practically threw himself into the air and landed on the bar table.

“Get off!” the bartender yelled behind him, and before Cloud knew it, he was faced with a large kitchen knife. Instinctively, as any would do when threatened with a weapon, Cloud extended his own, pulling his large Fusion Sword over his shoulder to hold in front with both hands. In a simple readied stance with his legs just barely bent and his sword directed straight, Cloud had a feeling he looked a bit silly. 

He’d _much_ rather have Barret or Cid laugh at him than find himself surrounded by over a dozen men who all hated his guts. Keeping hold of his high ground, Cloud swiftly swiped the knife out of the bartender’s hands with the sheer weight of his own blade, and the knife went flying across the bar until landing behind a table in the corner. A pair of hands began grabbing Cloud’s ankles, and as soon as he kicked them away, another pair took their place.

Cloud lost his footing, cursing under his breath as his boots slipped off of the table that had just been wiped off with a wet rag a minute before. With a bit of effort, Cloud managed to recover himself rather than falling on his backside and knocking his head against the table’s edge, but it came at the price of someone else’s toes. They yelped as Cloud used them for getting back his footing, and his free hand had reached out to grab someone by the shirt. He pulled himself forward, and as he did so, the man was flung towards him.

Cloud tipped his head forward roughly, knocking his target out by going for his own head. Unfortunately, as soon as the man collapsed on the floor, Cloud found himself rushed by more guys than he could count in less than a second. A few hands grabbed his shoulders while another wrapped themselves around the hilt of the Fusion Sword, eliciting a small sound of surprise and frustration from Cloud. With a grunt, he threw his strength into one arm, throwing off two attackers and sending them flying into a chair. Once able to focus on the ones grabbing his sword, Cloud merely pulled it out of their grip and brought it back in front of himself defensively.

He began slowly backing away towards the doors, swinging his sword in warning at anyone who attempted to come close. It was almost a perfect escape, with everything working out in his favor until-

_CRASH!_

Cloud’s vision blurred out at the same time that his mind felt like it briefly exploded. Sharp shards of glass cut into the skin of his head, and before Cloud could ask himself how he hadn’t seen such an attack coming, he was falling face-first into the floor. All senses seemed to go haywire as his forehead touched rough wood, parts of him screaming to get up and cover himself from further attacks while the other parts pleaded to not ignore the pain and wait until he felt well enough to stand.

The bartender had chucked an entire bottle of alcohol at his head when he wasn’t even looking. Much of the liquid had managed to soak the front of Cloud’s sweater, although that was the least of his worries. He could soon feel hands prodding and poking at his back, soon followed by feet kicking roughly at his sides. 

The feeling didn’t compare to getting stabbed as many times as he had been by Sephiroth, but it came pretty close in the moment. Cloud hadn’t felt like this in a while – kicked around and beaten like a defenseless wimp. He hated how it reminded him of the kid from Nibelheim who had been too nervous and stuck up to befriend any of the kids in town. The kid who had purposely gotten himself into fights. The kid who invited the prettiest girl he knew to the water tower so he could tell her his plans of joining SOLDIER and being someone who wouldn’t get kicked around.

Cloud Strife never made SOLDIER, but he sure wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore. He was the Cloud of Nibelheim, the Cloud who faced Sephiroth and _won_ , the Cloud who honored Zack’s legacy, the Cloud who kept his promise to Tifa…

Cloud’s heart sank. Despite the constant, rushing pain in his sides, drowned out as his ears could only hear a mix of noises, Cloud’s mind was brought entirely to a different bar and the woman who ran it. Sweet smiles and hushed words shared as morning sun shone through a bedroom window. It’d all be gone in an instant. She’d be gone, too, and he wouldn’t be able to get to her. 

All because they did what they thought was right. 

These people were the same way, needing someone to direct their anger and pain onto and _finding_ that someone as soon as Cloud entered the bar. He hated to think that people might do the same thing to Tifa, whether that meant doing it up-front during business hours or even attacking her in the middle of the night while he was  
far away  
where he wasn’t  
supposed to

be.

_This was a terrible mistake…_

“Hey, this guy’s not even moving,” one of the men chortled from above Cloud’s body. “You don’t think he’s dead already, do you?”

“Nah, I know these SOLDIER types,” the bartender shook his head, holding another bottle in his hand just in case. “They can get stabbed all the way through and live to see the next day. A strong hit to the head and a bit of kicking around won’t kill him.” After some thought, he laughed. “But if he did, it’d be a pretty pathetic way to go out after all he’s survived so far.”

“So what do we do?” another asked.

“Flip him over,” the bartender waved a hand dismissively, hardly seeming as interested as he was before. “If he’s unconscious, we’ll just have to wake him up with another bottle.”

“That ain’t how that works, man, you’re just drunk,” one accused, while sounding quite drunk himself.

Cloud’s eyes sprang open and his hand began patting different sections of the floor, searching desperately for the Fusion Sword’s hilt. When the tip of his finger grazed the object, he tugged, his whole hand quickly wrapping around only to find that there were a pair of feet stepping on the length of the blade, pinning it to the floor. Agitated and impatient, Cloud ripped the sword away and quickly brought it towards himself, sweeping the man off of his feet to crash into something somewhere else.

“Hey, hey, _hey_! He’s on the move!”

Cloud was already out the door, slamming it behind him as he went. His hand drew inside his pocket, confirming to himself that his keys hadn’t been dropped somewhere in the wrestle. As he climbed atop Fenrir, starting its engine, Cloud could just faintly hear the men screaming after him before he hit the gas and shot off down the road.

_Safe at last…_ Cloud thought to himself, feeling quite tired and sore. _Now would be a good time to heal up, especially now that my head is-_

Cloud didn’t give himself enough time to finish the thought, and was only barely able to direct Fenrir into a thin alley while his head throbbed in searing pain. The blood that attached itself to Cloud’s fingers when he clutched his scalp served as a stern reminder of just how serious such an injury could be. He nearly toppled off of the bike as soon as its kickstand was extended, falling on his back.

He needed to take slow, patient breaths. That was what he was supposed to do in such a situation, right? After some thought, Cloud was no longer so sure, but he kept up what he was doing before sitting up to rest his back against the brick wall of someone’s apartment building. With his teeth clamming together and his lips gently parting, Cloud seethed.

He set to work with the laughable amount of healing Materia that he had, making a rather messy job of it as he struggled to keep more than one eye open. Blood had trickled down his cheek and rolled over the shape of his chin, only to finally drip in a small puddle in the valley between Cloud’s neck and the collar of his sweater. 

He hadn’t sustained and injury so bad in a long while. After dueling enemies on the tops of houses and even in the midst of a motorbike chase at the _same_ time, it was always that much more humiliating when something as simple as a beer bottle finally had him down on the floor. He’d walked off countless stab wounds and cuts before, so why did everything have to come to a screeching halt as soon as someone targeted the head?

Cloud shoved away his own self-disappointment long enough to turn his head and notice the cell phone that had fallen out of his pocket and was sitting on the cobblestone path beside his leg. There was a puddle close by, too, and Cloud made sure to check for any water he needed to wipe off before deciding to make a call. It was an easy two-step process finding and dialing the number. It always was, since it was always at the top of his contacts and call history. 

Cloud brought the phone to his ear as it rang, wincing a bit as he stiffened out his left leg. That part of his body hadn’t even been hit with the bottle, but somewhere in the hustle of escaping, he figured he must have bumped his knee on Fenrir’s plating. The phone continued ringing, and he received no answer. It kept ringing, and ringing, until it reached the point Cloud was afraid of and a stupid automated voice responded to him instead of Tifa.

**_=“We’re sorry, but the person you are trying to contact is unavailable right now.”=_ **

Cloud was about to kick himself and throw the phone down when there was a soft _click_ and Tifa’s voice came through.

_“Hi; Seventh Heaven. I’m afraid we’re not able to come to the phone right now, or we may be closed. If you would like to reach out to us or you are trying to reach Strife Delivery, please leave a message after the beep.”_

Cloud realized he’d never heard Tifa’s voicemail message before. Of course he hadn’t. She always picked up when he called, and he was trying his hardest to do the same for her. It seemed odd that no one could come to the bar phone, considering the hour of the day. Cloud sighed as he glanced up at the dark sky. The day already felt like a waste. 

_One less day you had to spend with her before your lives change forever_ , taunted the voice in the back of Cloud’s mind, and he fearlessly scared it into a corner. 

Cloud jolted a bit as the beep sounded in his ear and he finally remembered to leave a message. “Tifa, it’s Cloud. Listen, I know this is a bad time, but-“

**_=”We’re sorry, but the person you are trying to contact has a voicemail that has not yet been set up. Additionally, the caller has disconnected, and is incapable of receiving messages at this time.”=_ **

The call ended, leaving Cloud alone and confused as he stared down at the number on his screen. Trying not to fear the worst, Cloud moved on to the second highest number on his cell: Tifa’s personal number.

It rang and rang and rang until Cloud hated how it sounded, hated how it heralded in the frustrating barrier blocking him from hearing her voice. His heart had already sank before the dial tone ended and he was met with another prerecorded message.

_“Hey, it’s Tifa. Sorry I missed your call, it must be that I’m busy with work or something, but I’ll try to get call you back if it’s anything important. Leave a message after the beep, and you’ll hear from me soon, okay?”_

Cloud grimaced. He _wouldn’t_ hear from her soon, at least not by phone. He _knew_ it, even if he didn’t know why. Everything else seemed to be going wrong today, so what was one more problem? Tifa _always_ answered when he called, and if there was a rare time she wasn’t there to answer him _first_ , then it would be Marlene and Denzel happily chatting away before he could even get to the point of his call.

Of course, up until after Geostigma, it had mainly been _her_ calling _him_ and him not picking up the phone. He didn’t like to think about it anymore, and neither did she, clearly, so when he was on the receiving end of that feeling, Cloud hurt for the both of them. This felt awful, and he had done that to her _how_ many times?

He owed her a pie when he got back. Nothing specific, just a nice warm pie since he knew it reminded her of home, but hopefully just the good parts. Her mom, his mom, a night sky littered with stars…

He owed her a whole lot more than a pie, but that would be the starting point. Maybe he’d even grab her favorite wine from the market and rent a movie for the two of them to enjoy together. It had been a few weeks since their first real attempt at a “date”, even if their definitions of the word differed greatly. He was fine with just staying home and not doing anything fancy as long as it was just the two of them, while she considered a proper date to involve going somewhere they didn’t usually visit and maybe dress up for it as well. She deserved that much, too.

The beep came, and Cloud was pulled from his thoughts. “Hey, Tifa, it’s uh…it’s me.” Cloud rubbed the back of his neck like he usually did when coming to her with something mildly embarrassing, despite the fact that she couldn’t see or hear him. “I took care of the deliveries, so I guess I’m done for the day. Something came up, though, and…I got into a fight.” He realized how normal that sounded coming from him and added, “Like a bar fight. With a bunch of other guys. It’s pretty stupid, but one of them got a hit on me with a beer bottle, and…” Cloud let out a long sigh. “I’m not in the best shape; I’m literally sitting here in an alleyway on the cold wet ground. I’m in Junon. I know it’s pretty far out, but I need someone to come pick me up. I can’t drive Fenrir, not like this.”

Or maybe he could. Cloud realized he was getting a call in the middle of his message, and made a quick, impulsive decision that he partly regretted right after. “Actually, never mind that, I’m fine. I’ll drive home on my own. I may be a bit late, though, so go to bed without me.” Cloud felt pressured as the other number continued call, and he rushed the rest of what he wanted to say. “I have something I need to do. Don’t worry about me.”

He hung up right there and accepted the other call, trying to ignore the gut feeling that settled low. “This is Cloud.”

_“Glad I could still get a hold of you,”_ Reeve’s voice was steady and professional as always. _“I did some looking around and found you that address you requested. Do you have something with you to write this down?”_

Cloud frowned, looking down at the floor before remembering the small notebook he had in his pocket. Tifa had insisted that he keep it on him in the off chance he needed to take over at the bar for her on short notice. Only a few pages had anything written on them, and a pen was attached. “Yeah,” Cloud responded, moving the phone to hold between his shoulder and his ear while he prepared his hands to write. “Read it off.”

Reeve did as requested, and after he was done, his tone grew more serious. “ _You know what I warned you about earlier, right? I can’t help you if this goes horribly wrong.”_

“I get it,” Cloud nodded, hiding how sad he could have sounded if he wasn’t careful. “This is something I need to handle alone anyway. I’m prepared to face potential consequences.”

Reeve made a small, indiscernible sound, as if he started speaking but quickly covered it up. Finally, he took on a more dangerously touchy tone. _“Is Tifa?”_

Cloud should have expected this, but he hadn’t. He faltered for a bit, his attention focusing on the boring brick wall across from him. “I…no…yes…she _won’t_ ,” Cloud finally settled on that, sounding firm. “This has nothing to do with her.”

_“Cloud, it may not look at it from your view, but the whole world isn’t against you right now,”_ Reeve said. _“I did some reading on this couple. They’re young, bitter, and destitute. They aren’t exactly in the right here, suing the bar in hopes that whatever money you and Tifa have will get them back on their feet.”_

“But we made them poor in the first place,” Cloud protested.

_“Shinra dropped the plate, Cloud. I’ve had to remind far too many people of that over the past three years. You of all people should know the truth.”_

“Yeah, well I’m sure plenty of people have told this couple the same thing, and it clearly hasn’t changed their minds.” Cloud took a deep breath. “And I haven’t changed mine, either. I’ve gotta meet the problem at its source.”

_“You’re still planning to talk it out with them?”_

“If they’ll listen.”

_“Then I wish you luck,”_ Reeve cleared his throat, once again asserting a professional voice. _“If you need anything from me again, just give me a call.”_

“I will.” Cloud waited another moment before he heard Reeve end the call. His eyes glazed over the Fenrir’s handlebars again, pondering when he’d be well enough to trust himself on the road. Slowly, he stood to his feet, noticing how much lighter he felt. The Materia seemed to be doing its job as well, much to his relief. 

He decided that he’d head out right away.


	3. Eleven-Thirty and the Clock Still Ticks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the introduction of Peter and his wife, aka the most recent source of Cloud and Tifa's torture lol. My intention from the start was to have Peter specifically act like a "shadow", much like Sephiroth in the OG FF7 where he only shows up a select handful of times on screen, but offscreen he still has such a powerful presence. It all comes down to his first impressions, raw power and the things we learn about him through Cloud. Peter obviously isn't the One Winged Angel, but my plan was to have those little aspects of Sephiroth applied in subtle ways, explaining why this crisis seems to effect Cloud and Tifa significantly more than others. Not aspects of Sephiroth's personality but of his presence, which I'm hoping i got across well in the previous chapters. 
> 
> Idk, i just think storytelling is neat

It was 11:30 and Cloud was still gone.

Tifa wiped off the counters for what was probably the fifth time, growing tired of finding things to do that would keep her feeling useful and – most importantly – keep her awake. The bar was already spotless an hour before, and she’d even found herself beginning to clean before the doors were closed for the night, but still Tifa lingered. Deciding to keep only the main overhead light turned on, it created a low yet welcoming glow, focused on the bar counter and the center of the room. Sometimes, it felt like this particular setup made for a rather romantic mood, one that Cloud had once taken advantage of during one of their in-home dates. For someone who claimed to be perfectly fine not doing anything extra special for such an occasion, he’d actually went out of his way to set it up like something it was not. 

Tifa smiled to herself as her hand continued to go back and forth with the wet rag across the counter. Cloud could be a huge dork sometimes. A lovable dork, though, with a bigger heart than most people could see. As small and limited as Cloud’s range of friends was, Tifa sometimes felt comfort and delight in the fact that she alone knew him inside and out, front and back. It had taken time, sure, but even before moving in together, there had just been that _click_ after the Lifestream, and suddenly she understood him on a deeper level than anyone could have expected, herself included. He’d been difficult to read during the Geostigma crisis, but thankfully that had been swept away and the Cloud she knew came back to her. 

She knew how much he worried and how much he knew _she_ would worry, so Tifa kept telling herself that Cloud would be fine. He had a punctured tire. One of the clients had been too chatty when accepting their package. Harsh weather forced him to find shelter for a few hours before heading back out. 

Any one of those situations was one that Cloud had been faced with many times before, and he’d come home from each time. It was the hour of the day that he finally did return that was tricky to estimate. There were nights when she’d slowly wake up when feeling another body crawl into bed beside her many hours after she’d given up and embraced sleep, all while he’d come home super early other days. Tifa didn’t know what to expect on any given day, and she’d gotten used to it.

It just meant that she sometimes had to take his plate of dinner and reheat it for later. That there were full _days_ when she wouldn’t see him, because he left before she woke and went to sleep after she was already dozing off. Cloud was doing a lot better about it – he really was – but some things were beyond his control. Tifa tried her hardest to be fully understanding despite how much the distance made her ache for him regularly. Other couples had normal routines and saw each other for the same number of hours each day. Cloud and Tifa, on the other hand, could have enough time to go have a picnic together one day and then not see each other for two or three days straight because of a special delivery.

 _You’re not the only ones,_ Tifa chided herself, feeling silly and selfish all at once. _Cloud isn’t the only delivery boy in the world._

She was aching for him again, and this time, she was a few wet rags away from hurrying to the phone and calling Cloud. 11:30 was _really_ late, right? He wouldn’t think she was being too pushy if she sounded a bit impatient on the phone, would he? He’d understand how much she needed him with her, because she knew he felt the same way, especially when the world seemed to be turned upside down with fears of suing and job loss and custody changes swirling.

Tifa really didn’t want to think about it too much. Cloud was being strong, going out to work for the whole day just like she’d wanted him to, and she’d run the bar. After all, what good was it if they spent their time together feeling miserable and afraid?

 _Because it was like that before, and we got through it together._ Tifa bit her bottom lip, feeling a tinge of guilt and regret. Years before, when the world was _literally_ coming to an end, and there was no reason to believe anything would stop it, they’d had each other. Knowing she might suffer a quick but agonizing death by Meteor, she’d turned that fear and desperation into energy. She’d found Cloud in Mideel, stuck with him until the end, and after his memories were repaired and he led the group into the Northern Crater, she…no longer felt afraid.

“I pushed him away,” Tifa whispered to herself, shaking her head sadly. She wondered if, with him staying at the bar with her instead, they would have come up with a plan by now. One that brought a peaceful end to the threats and made sure Tifa wouldn’t have to see her family torn apart. Maybe Cloud would be lying beside her in bed already, with his arms wrapped around her and holding her so close that she could hear his heartbeat and let that slow, steady rhythm put her to sleep. 

Maybe she could close her eyes without fear of everything changing the next day.

“Tifa?” a young, sleepy voice beckoned the woman from her thoughts, causing her to jump a bit in surprise. The curious, confused eyes of Denzel seemed to be searching Tifa for an answer he thought she wouldn’t provide by tongue, and as Tifa opened her mouth to question him, he scratched his head. “…why are you still up?”

“Denzel, I…” Tifa shook her head, trying to push away her self-loathing. “I’m just waiting for Cloud to get back.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Sweeping the floors, wiping the counters…y’know, the usual stuff.”

Denzel still seemed confused, but he nodded anyway. “He’s still not back?”

“No, Denz, he’s not,” Tifa hated how upset she sounded, and before the boy could potentially question her further, she changed the subject. “What are _you_ doing up, anyway? It’s extremely late.”

“I…I couldn’t sleep,” Denzel admitted, dropping his chin a bit, and it was then that Tifa noticed how reddened his eyes were. 

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Tifa’s eyes widened as she crossed the bar space to lean down at Denzel’s level. Both hands rested on both of his shoulders, encouraging the boy to look up at her, and after some hesitation, he did. “Oh, Denzel, how long have you been crying?”

He made an ugly sound from the back of his throat – some sort of mix of a choke and a sob – before his shoulders crumpled. “I don’t know…b-b-but T-Tifa I…I j-just…” he continued to break down right there, and Tifa brought him into a hug, allowing him to muffle his sobs into the leather of her jacket top. 

“Shhh, shhh,” Tifa tried to sooth him, one of her hands coming up to cup the back of his head. “It’s alright, Denzel, just let it out. You don’t have to be embarrassed about crying in front of me. You know that, right?” She felt his head nod into her shoulder, and she smiled. “Good. If you were feeling like this, you should have come to me right away.”

“I th-thought y-you were as-s-s-leep with C-Cloud,” Denzel’s voice shook as he spoke, cutting in and out of his crying. “D-didn’t w-want to wake you up.” The last few words came out clearly and ended in a long, pained sigh.

“You can come to me and Cloud with _anything_ , Denzel,” Tifa assured him, running soothing circles on his back. _But he’s not here_ , she reminded herself bitterly. “What’s going on, huh?” She knew _exactly_ why he was upset – of _course_ she did – but she asked him anyway. “What happened?”

“T-Tifa I c-can’t st-st-st-“

“Hey, hey, just take a deep breath,” Tifa softened her voice, ignoring the way her heart broke at this poor boy’s reaction. He didn’t deserve this. Of all people, not Denzel. “Start talking when you’re more relaxed. You got it?”

Denzel sniffled, taking a few loud, shaky breaths before nodding his head. “Okay…I think I’m good.”

“What’s up?” Tifa implored him again, yet she dreaded his answer.

“I’m gonna miss you and Cloud when you’re gone,” Denzel sounded raspy. 

_Oh. Oh. Poor Denzel._

Thankfully, he kept talking before Tifa felt pressured to respond to him with her own tears threatening to fall. “Those people said they want to take me and Marlene away from you and give us to someone else.” His hand balling into a fist at Tifa’s side did not go unnoticed. “But I…I _like_ it here. I like you guys.”

“And we like you too,” Tifa nodded. “No – we _love_ you, Denzel. You and Marlene are family, and we’re not gonna let anyone change that.” Denzel had been torn from one family already, and he was barely nine years old now when he was given reason to believe he’d be torn from a second one. “You should have told me you were scared. I should have checked in on you anyway, I just was so caught up in my own worrying that I just…” Tifa trailed off, shaking her head again. “Never mind all that. I’ve got you, Denzel.”

“Everyone’s acting like this can’t be stopped,” Denzel continued, not sounding that much less depressed. “No one’s even doing anything to stop it.”

“I…I messed up,” Tifa admitted, lowering her eyes. “I told Cloud to go to work and live life like normal. I thought that we should take this slowly and not get worked up about it too soon.” Angrily, Tifa bit her tongue. “That was a stupid thing to say. How could I expect you guys to act like nothing ever happened?”

To her surprise, Denzel pulled his face away from her jacket and looked at her with wide eyes. “You were trying to hold us together, Tifa. There’s nothing stupid about that.”

“But I wasn’t thinking about it from anyone’s perspective but my own. Even Cloud, I…” Tifa found herself pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes. She felt awful that it had taken her child _crying_ to finally call her own bad decision when she saw it. She was supposed to be better than this. “I’m sorry, Denzel. I know you’re probably disappointed, but unfortunately adults make mistakes too. A lot of them.”

Denzel didn’t need to be told this. He was going on 10 years of age in just a few months and had lived with Cloud Strife who, while Tifa hated to bring it up anymore, had made a pretty huge mistake in leaving without a word. Since Cloud’s return, Denzel finally had a full family again. He was the older brother to Marlene, the sister, and Tifa acted as mother with Cloud assuming the role of father. Despite their differences, not just in background, they fit together quite well in Tifa’s opinion.

And two adults acting out of emotion and misguided hatred wanted to take it all away from him. _Him. Denzel_. The sweetest, bravest, most _deserving_ boy in Edge. It filled Tifa with an anger she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since Shinra dropped the plate. Not since she found out about the terrible experiments Hojo had done on Cloud. Not since Kadaj had come around kidnapping children with the promise of “healing” them.

Thousands of innocents died underneath the plate, Cloud was shoved into a Mako tube after trying to follow his dreams, and a lot of children died, both from Geostigma and from the awakening of Bahamut SIN. None of those situations had good endings. They had only spurred righteous anger from Tifa, making her want to find the person responsible and ruin them the way they ruined others, but like always…she would clear her head and move on. Cloud was still with her. Those who had died had returned to the Planet. Shinra, Kadaj, and Sephiroth had each been defeated. 

The ugly thought followed her. _So what terrible thing has to happen to Denzel in order for him to stay?_

That wasn’t how it worked. Not destiny, not luck, not someone dipping their toes into the Pool of Fate and watching what happens. Even Cloud had stopped thinking that way a long while back. It was silly – no, _foolish_ – of her to even consider that that was how it worked. That in order for something good to transpire, the person needed to be _hurt_ in some way first. What an ugly, horrible, morbid thought.

“Tifa?” Denzel once again called her back, and she raised her eyes to see him watching her with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” Tifa nodded, sniffling a bit as she forced away threatening tears. “Denzel, you should go back to bed, alright? Otherwise, you won’t have any energy to do your chores in the morning.” She offered a small smile, hoping she could in the very least lighten the mood, but he barely smiled back. It was clearly and effort made for her sake rather than his own. 

“So you told Cloud to go to work, but…did you think he would be gone this long?” Denzel asked, his voice starting to break again. “I mean…I’m sure he gladly did it because you asked, but you must have meant a normal work day…right?”

Tifa bit her lip. “Of course. Honestly, I’m not sure what’s keeping him.” He wouldn’t have even had that long of a list, since they both stopped taking calls for the several hours following the moment they opened that awful letter detailing the couple’s plans to sue the bar and his delivery service. Several hours worth of clients had been ignored, meaning that, if anything, Cloud should have had a much shorter day than normal. 

“Did you call him?” Denzel asked, sounding surprised when he noticed from her expression that she hadn’t. “Well…he has his phone on him, doesn’t he?”

“He should.” Tifa knew Cloud was never a huge fan of the thing, and she’d often have to remind him to grab it in the mornings before heading out on routes. Still, he had promised to pick up her calls and even call _her_ more often. So far, in the year since then, he’d done a pretty great job of keeping that promise. “I’ll call him, don’t worry. If he doesn’t pick up, then…” she trailed off. Then _what_? What was she supposed to say?

“…then he has a good reason,” Denzel finished for her, sounding quite confident. “And if he’s in trouble, he’ll figure it out. He’s the best fighter around.”

“I supposed you’re right,” Tifa smiled at him genuinely this time, making a mental note to remind Cloud just how lucky he was to have this kid look up to him. “Alright, I’ll call. Hopefully he’s not driving right now.” Tifa practically slid across the floor to get to the phone, grabbing it from where it sat on the wall. She punched in Cloud’s number, knowing it like the back of her hand, and brought it to her ear expecting the dial tone to begin.

It didn’t. There was no sound at all.

Tifa’s eyebrows furled a bit and she took another look at the number pad, making sure she’d punched in the entire string. There was something wrong, but nothing that she could see.

“That’s weird,” Tifa started slowly, pulling the phone down from her ear and looking it over. “It’s like this thing isn’t even working anymore. How about…” she let her next action finish the thought for her, punching in the voicemail number to see if that still worked. There was no sound, no automated voice reading off the number of new and saved messages, and no evidence of Cloud calling earlier.

“So, it really doesn’t work?” Denzel asked. “What happened to it?”

“I…don’t know,” Tifa admitted. “It’s not an electrical outage,” she proved her point by flicking the lightswitch up and down a few times. “Maybe the phone lines are down. I’ll just call him on my-“ Tifa froze just as her hand patted the outside of her pocket and realized there was nothing inside. “ _Shoot._ My phone. Where did it go?”

“Maybe you left it in another pair of pants?” Denzel guessed.

 _Oh no._ Tifa buried her face in her hands suddenly, running her fingers down her scalp in bitter frustration. “That’s _right_ , I had it in the pocket of my sweatpants. I changed out of those before I ever opened the bar. Don’t tell me they’re-“

“Marlene threw the laundry from your room into the washing machine after you got busy with work,” Denzel revealed solemnly, his tone downtrodden. “I was supposed to check the clothes for loose change before then, but I…forgot to. Sorry, Tifa.”

The woman allowed her arms to fall back to her sides, and she took a deep breath. “And the stuff from the washer was put into the dryer since then, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah…”

“Then we’ll have to wait until morning to see if the phone will still work,” Tifa sighed. “It’s fine, Denzel, really. I’m always so busy working behind the counter that I hardly used that phone for much anyway.”

“But it was our only way of calling Cloud,” Denzel pointed out. 

“We’ll just have to wait for him to get back,” Tifa rested her hands on her hips, peering out the window at the dark and dead of night. She wished she could see Fenrir’s headlight announcing the arrival of Edge’s infamous mailman, but nothing about the view changed. It was still a massive, black void of nothingness obstructing her view of the outside world where Cloud was currently inside of. 

“You’ll go to sleep now, right Denz?” Tifa asked, looking over her shoulder where he was already backing up towards the hallway. 

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Good night, Tifa.”

For some reason, her response caught in her throat for a moment before she managed to get it out. “Good night, Denzel. Sleep tight.” She watched him as he disappeared into the dark of the hall, and once the distant footsteps stopped catching her ear, Tifa sat herself down on one of the barstools and nearly _collapsed_. 

“Sorry, Cloud, but I’m pretty tired,” she whispered to the emptiness of the bar, her eyelids feeling heavy. “Please come home soon.” It wasn’t a phone call, nor would it ever reach Cloud’s ears, but it satisfied Tifa for a moment. She smiled tiredly, bowing her head. Before she knew it, she had turned her body to lean her upper half against the bar counter, using her folded arms as a pillow for her quickly falling head. Long strands of raven black hair fell over her face like a veil, but she could hardly bring herself to brush them away. 

“Good night, Cloud.”

* * *

* * *

It was 11:30. He should have been asleep long ago, and yet he was so many miles away from home, standing in the cold with his hands jammed into his pockets and her shoulders falling inwards so he could nearly retreat into the warmth of his sweater’s collar. Fenrir sat behind him, propped up where it had been for the past two hours. Where _he’d_ been for the past two hours.

If the results of this conversation weren’t so completely important to Cloud, he wouldn’t have stuck around. If it had been anyone else making him stand in the cold alone with nothing offered other than a wet paper towel wadded up to clean the dried blood off of his face and neck, he would have sped far, far away. He felt really stupid and inconsiderate about the paper towel, though. It seemed odd that he’d never thought to clean himself up before visiting two complete strangers, not to mention strangers who hated his guts.

After seeing the dirty looks they had given him, it was a miracle they even spared their paper towels for him.

 _“Stay out here and wait until I’m ready to talk,”_ the male had said. Two hours ago. Cloud tapped his foot impatiently and tried to see if it was humanly possible to shove his hands any further into his pockets than he already had. 

Despite the fact that he had just done so already ten minutes ago, Cloud pulled his phone back out, hoping to see a new text from Tifa or even a notification that she’d tried to call him. Nothing. He’d even texted her himself a few times, each within twenty-five minute intervals, and still no response. Something about it didn’t sit right for Cloud, but he held onto the hope that she’d simply forgotten to turn it on for the day or had left it on their bedstand that morning. 

No, if it had been there, she would found it by now. Even Tifa had her limits when it came to waiting for him to come home, and despite his better judgment, Cloud assumed – no, _hoped_ – that she was already fast asleep, getting a healthy, full night’s rest. Shiva knew _he_ wasn’t going to get one tonight.

He went to his recent contacts, moving down the list despite the fact that it was all one hundred percent _Tifa-centric,_ and selected a random call in the history. He chose to call her again, and rested the back of his legs against Fenrir’s chassis while he waited for her to pick up.

No. Nothing.

_“Hey, it’s Tifa. Sorry I missed your call, it must be that I’m busy with work or something, but I’ll try to get call you back if it’s anything important. Leave a message after the beep, and you’ll hear from me soon, okay?”_

Cloud called another time, not hoping to hear her pick up because he had a pretty good feeling by now that she wouldn’t, but because hearing her voice was the only thing keeping him from going crazy. He was standing here outside the house of people who hated him and wanted to ruin his life, right after getting into a bar fight with _other_ people who hated his guts and before _then,_ he’d ticked off a guy driving a chocobo wagon. 

At least the coffee from Barret earlier that day had been halfway decent. It was probably the highlight of Cloud’s day, ironically enough.

A sudden stirring from inside the home caught Cloud’s attention, and he kept his eyes trained on the door before it opened. The man from before instantly made eye contact with Cloud as he exited the trailer. “I’m ready to talk now.”

No _“sorry for the wait”_ or _“would you like to come inside?”_ was spoken. Cloud didn’t feel disappointed, because he had never set up such an expectation. The man seemed to have noticed, and walked down the steps so he could come a little closer. 

“You said you only came here to talk,” the man reminded Cloud, thinking back to their very brief interaction before he’d left him there. “You scared my wife half to death with that giant sword of yours, making us both think you came to kill us.” He didn’t laugh, didn’t scoff, didn’t whine. He just _stared_ at Cloud with more hatred than he’d seen from Hojo, Heidegger, and all the rest of the Shinra stuckups combined.

Grief is a very powerful thing, Cloud realized.

“It wasn’t my intention,” Cloud raised his empty hands in surrender, nodding behind him to where the Fusion Sword was rested on Fenrir’s other side. “Sorry, I just usually carry it with me. Can never be too careful when crossing around here, especially with the recent monster sightings.”

The man didn’t seem to care. It was now that Cloud finally remembered the name written on the letter’s return address. His name was Peter. Simple name for someone who once lived a simple life. Fitting, while altogether tragic in the end. His life, like many others, had been changed dramatically since Midgar and Meteorfall.

Peter was pacing back and forth now as he and Cloud waited in silence, both unsure of how to carry the conversation forward. “So. I’m assuming you’ve come to present your own…issues?”

That was one word for it. “I don’t mean to pry at old wounds, but I’m no good at sugarcoating it either.” It was unapologetically honest, but it was what this man deserved. Honesty. Respect. “What happened three years ago was terrible. People were at fault on both sides.”

“And what sides were those?” Peter spat, already getting aggressive. “Shinra versus the world? Shinra versus a group of terrorists?”

This wasn’t the first time Cloud had been presented with questions about Avalanche, with people assuming he was the leader or at least calling all of the shots. In the past, he would give a cold shoulder and push the people away. Most of the time, they weren’t even people who were affected. Just young reporters desperate for something to throw into the daily gossip. 

Again, Peter deserved honesty. “I was with Avalanche briefly. I was there at the bombings, just like the other member you sent a letter to.” He wasn’t trying to sound too defensive of Barret – he really wasn’t – but it wasn’t easy to discuss such a difficult, fragile topic from the start. “And I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling sorry for three years.” Cloud contemplated what he should say next. Should he bring up how the president ordered for the plate to fall, or would it anger him further? He had no doubt heard all of this before, and it would be yet another trigger for a sling of insults, curses, and accusations.

“Yeah? Sorry doesn’t do anything,” Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Feeling sorry is pretty easy, right? Pretty convenient? Meanwhile, everyone _else_ in a fifty mile radius is _grieving_!” He had come close enough to jab a finger into Cloud’s chest, shouting in his face. “You’re to blame, so why should you be happy? Why should you be able to go home to a loving, complete family after everything you’ve caused?”

“Complete” was an unfitting word. They were a family of circumstance and choice, not of blood. Sometimes that was better, since it meant they each wanted each other’s company and no one was forced to stay, but other times it was impossible to forget the families they had _before_ then. Cloud would never think of trading what he had now, but if there was a way to give Denzel his first family back, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“Look,” Cloud breathed in sharply, choosing his words extra carefully. “I know you think it’s unfair. In some ways, I do too. But here I am, alright? I’m unarmed, I’m at your door, and I’m taking responsibility for my actions.” He spread his arms a bit for emphasis, keeping a serious expression. “You can do whatever you want with me, but I only ask that you leave my family out of it.”

Peter froze for a moment. An emotion other than anger and hatred spread over his features briefly. _Confusion_. “Why should they be left out?”

“Because they did nothing wrong,” Cloud sighed. “Especially the kids. They’ve both been orphans before, and you can’t seriously expect that they were the masterminds behind a mass genocide. Right?” Cloud sounded desperate – scared, even. 

Peter seemed thoughtful before his face twisted in anger again. “You should have thought of your own sins before getting them involved, huh?”

“The boy is a survivor of that day,” Cloud raised his voice a bit, hoping to find some middle ground. “Denzel. He’s felt the same pain you have. His parents were lost in Sector 7 just like so many others. You’d bring yourself to hurt _him_ , too? And Marlene…she’s just a sweet little girl. How could she-“

“Enough!” Peter yelled, stepping away from Cloud slowly. “I see what you’re doing – you’re playing the victim now!”

“No, I’m not-“

“Yes, you are! Trying to convince me how your children are so perfect and have felt pain like I have.” Peter was looking at Cloud with disgust now, almost turning away completely. “Everyone feels grief in their own ways, but here you are trying to bundle us up in a tight little package. Shovel us into some kind of…category. We’re all the same – is that what you’re getting at?”

Cloud frowned. “Not at all.”

“Sure seems like it. What are you gonna say about that terrorist bartender you live with, huh? Let me guess, she feels _really sorry_ about what she did? How she’s serving drinks to gross bums so she can ‘ _give back to the people_ ’? What a joke.”

Cloud’s blood was boiling at that part, but he surprised himself by keeping a cool head. “If anyone in Avalanche hated the idea of bombing the reactors most, it was her. Tifa wanted to save as many lives as she could.”

“She did a fantastic job of that,” Peter mocked, his aggressiveness becoming overwhelming at this point. “Don’t try telling me that Shinra pulled the trigger, because whether they did or not really doesn’t matter. You wanna know why?” He came forward again, getting in Cloud’s face.

Cloud took a deep breath. “…why?”

“Because someone had to go ahead and anger them in the first place,” Peter laughed bitterly, folding his arms. “You whacked the bee’s nest – however you wanna say it. If a bunch of stupid terrorists didn’t go around blowing up giant energy resources because it was ‘for the good of the Planet’,” he emphasized with air quotes, “then they never would have felt the need to drop the plate. You did that.”

“I didn’t come to argue with that,” Cloud stated firmly, realizing that this was going nowhere fast. He was feeling really tired too, and his plan was falling apart. Could today get any worse? “I just want you to think about what you’re saying you’ll do. Send me and Tifa to court – and for what? Whatever amount of money you get out of us won’t even pay off a house. We’re not wealthy.”

Peter snorted. “Sure as hell living better than I am.” 

“It won’t make you happier.”

“You don’t get to say that,” Peter scolded him, his eyes red, almost like there were actual flames inside. Despite being nearly a head shorter than Cloud, he sized him up surprisingly well, seeming imposing despite his small stature. “How would you know? You’ve never _been_ this low.”

 _Spent five years of my life in a tube, and several months on a floor of a church hating myself and wanting to die._ These memories were still fresh in Cloud’s memory, but he wouldn’t dare bring them up. Too much to explain, and far more than Peter would care to hear. He’d never understand how there was a time when all he _wanted_ was to be punished. To one day drop down and die so he wouldn’t have to live in a world where innocent people died and their murderer lived happily ever after. 

It was also a dark place Tifa had pulled him out of, and one he never wanted to open up again.

“So that’s what you came here for?” Peter scoffed. “To ask me to just tear up the letter and act like I never wanted those things to happen? That I don’t want them to happen right _now_?”

“Just leave Tifa and the kids alone,” Cloud pleaded. “That’s all I ask.”

“You don’t get to ask for anything. I asked for my brother back, you know that? For a whole year after it happened, I got down on my knees and prayed to whatever god was out there to bring him back. But that’s not how it works. He’s not coming back, and after I lost each of my family members, you gained three.” His eyes narrowed and he shoved a hand at Cloud’s chest. It didn’t move him, but the intention was there. “Doesn’t seem right to me. How about you?”

Cloud wasn’t going to answer that. He’d been in enough battles to recognize one that would never be won. Zack had taught him that a long time ago, but he’d never expected it to apply to the verbal type. As Cloud turned away, getting Fenrir ready to go, he heard Peter cussing from behind him. It didn’t matter; Cloud drowned it all out with the road of Fenrir’s engine. After a few more moments, Cloud was gone, leaving the trailer far behind.

Cloud felt completely and terrifyingly hopeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment! :)


	4. Reasons for Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa deals with her own regret while Cloud deals with Reno's crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone order fluff? (Yes, yes)  
> With a side of...angst? (no, no...)
> 
> lol enjoy

“Hey, Tifa? Tifa? Hell _ooooo_?”

After a few moments, Tifa’s eyes cracked open and she was treated to the friendly face of one Barret Wallace, who was watching her with concern. Finally realizing her surroundings, Tifa sat up, reaching a hand up to rub her cheek which was red and sore from the night before. She looked down at herself, noting her messy, wrinkled clothing. 

She’d slept there on the barstool with her face buried in her arms on the counter. She had the aching back to prove it. “Ngh…Barret? What are you…doing here?” Tifa broke off into a yawn, stretching her arms as she did so. 

Barret stood in front of her, waving his gun arm around the room. “I came by for my visit. Marlene ain’t going to school or somethin’ today, is she?”

 _Visit._ That didn’t sound right. Tifa hadn’t planned on a visit, nor had she heard from Barret in weeks. She glanced at his expression, waiting for an explanation, only to find that she was missing a piece of information that he clearly already had. “You came by to see Marlene?”

“Well, sure!” Barret grinned, peering down the hallway. “Where is she, anyway? You think it’d be ‘aight if I look for ‘er in her room?”

“Hmm? Oh…yeah, sure, go ahead,” Tifa nodded. She felt far more tired than she expected. Had all those hours of sleep done _nothing_ for her? The things Barret had said so far still swirled around in her head, and she found herself more confused with something else. “Uh…how’d you get in?”

“Spare key,” Barret tapped his pocket. “Don’t know if ya remember, but you gave me one three years ago when you and Cloud first opened shop. I knocked at the door for a while, but no one came to unlock it, and…” He paused, meeting Tifa’s eye. “I saw ya restin’ there against the table through the window. Thought maybe someone messed you up or somethin’.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Tifa felt a bit embarrassed, smoothing out her front. “I didn’t think I’d actually fall asleep here.”

“Ain’t it Spiky’s job to make sure you don’t do somethin’ like that? I aughtta get him off his lazy ass.” Barret huffed, making his way down the hallway before Tifa could protest. After a few moments, the door to Marlene’s room swung open, and Barret could be heard announcing his arrival. After hearing a faint squeal from Marlene, Tifa smiled. 

Seventh Heaven was always so pleasant in the mornings, when the sun shone through the windows and cast rays across the floor. The soft ticking of a clock on the wall was noticeable at times like this when the bar wasn’t full of patrons, and even the sound of rushing tap water from the sink was so much more soothing in the morning hours.

Tifa had this in mind when she walked over to the sink, running the water down over her hands before bringing them up to her face. She splashed herself a few more times, desperate to give her body more of an excuse to stay awake. It was never this difficult three years ago, even though the old bar seemed to receive even more regular visitors and she had been caught up with Avalanche back then. Others would make offhand jokes that it was the raising of two children that caused Tifa to “show her age”, although she thought that sounded absolutely ridiculous. While combat was no longer a constant in her life like it was back then, she still felt just as loose and well-toned as always. Regular trips to the gym down the street had made sure of that, even if the experience wasn’t as hands-on as Cloud’s.

Cloud wasn’t back. He hadn’t come home at all. Otherwise, he surely would have found her snoozing against the counter and would have brought her back to bed, right? Instead of waking up alone and with a pained back, she could have been wrapped up in Cloud’s arms, feeling more comfortable than she had in her whole life. 

_Ugh._ Tifa knew it was stupid to dwell on what could have been while the present was calling her name. Drawing herself away from the sink, Tifa decided to check on the laundry. Maybe she’d find her cell phone and it might still be functional.

“Hey, Tifa, where is Spiky anyway?” Barret’s voice boomed, startling Tifa as he came up from behind her. Sheepishly, he rubbed his neck, looking away. “Sorry there, didn’t mean to scare ya. Usually nothin’ takes you by surprise, Teef.”

 _Except death threats and the mixture of sleep deprivation and stress that leaves one on edge,_ Tifa thought to herself. _And ghosts._

“He’s not here, Barret,” Tifa sighed, trying to change up her composure after watching Barret’s face fall. “Sorry, I should have told you by now, before you went looking for him.”

“Well…hell, that’s fine, whateva’,” Barret shrugged it off, but still seemed unsure. His eyes steadily observed the bar, noticing the clean tables and spotless floorboards. “What I wanna know is why that guy is takin’ so long. Sounded like when we talked yesterday that he was plannin’ on heading back here soon.”

Tifa’s interest was instantly piqued. This was news to her. But first… “Would you like something to drink, Barret? We don’t have coffee, sorry.”

Barret’s eyes flashed with amusement, to her surprise. “Yeah, he was jus’ tellin’ me that yesterday. I told him about that old coffee pot you’d have out for Jessie and the boys every mornin’ back at the old bar.” There was a brightness that covered his features as he spoke of the past, and Tifa found herself smiling, too. Despite their disagreements at times, Avalanche had always been a pretty tight group of people. Tifa still found herself missing it sometimes.

“You want milk, then?”

“Sure.”

Tifa nodded and pulled some from the fridge, and as she got on her tiptoes to reach a glass from the cupboard, she asked, “So you spoke to Cloud yesterday? Anything important that I missed?”

“Hmm? Ah, I mean we got talkin’ about that awful letter that crazy couple sent out,” Barret rolled his eyes, nodding in thanks as Tifa handed him the glass of milk. “He made fun of my eggnog again, too. Couldn’t let that go, could he?”

Tifa listened silently as he spoke before raising her head. “Wait…so you guys talked in person?”

“Yeah, yeah. I ordered a package to be delivered by ol’ SOLDIER boy,” Barret grinned. Although the name no longer fit, nor had it ever, technically, the man was still fond of it three years after Cloud’s true memories were restored. It had a nice ring to it still, and it still got on Cloud’s nerves at times. Naturally, Barret kept hold of it. “We were jus’ talking and stuff.” He paused to take a sip of milk when suddenly his eyes widened and he stared straight at Tifa. “Whoa, whoa,” Barret sputtered after putting the glass back down. “This is _all_ news to ya? So he never did tell you I was comin’?”

Tifa’s left eyebrow raised. “No, I had no idea. I don’t think it’s his fault, though. I noticed last night that the phone stopped working.”

Barret shot a knowing glance before shifting his eyes to the phone set on the wall. “Can’t get a call through? Tried checkin’ the mailbox and got zip, nada, zilch?”

“You know what’s going on here?”

Barret nodded. “They cut your phone line, Tifa.” Before she could ask him to elaborate, he held up a hand. “I don’t know who, and I don’t know when, but I know why. That letter wasn’t jus’ seen by us, Tifa. A good chunk of this town has at least heard of the details, no doubt.”

“I mean, I knew it wasn’t private, but…”

“They leaked it all over the place,” Barret spat with distaste, watching a few cars drive by outside. “What better way to get the whole career-ruinin’ thing goin’ than to get the whole world on _their_ side? There’ll always be people supportin’ you and Cloud, but for most people, all it takes is a few pieces of information – true or not – to wave their entire opinion.” He gritted his teeth, appearing genuinely hurt. “I’ve already seen it North Corel. Probably happened so fast cuz they hated me already but…” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Sidin’ with us paints a bad picture for anyone and everyone, even if we wish it weren’t that way.”

Tifa hadn’t thought it was that bad. She’d gotten a few dirty looks from some onlookers, and a few patrons had immediately stopped coming for their usual drinks, but she had assumed most people still supported her. She never would have thought they would take the contents of the letter to heart, let alone side against her.

She hesitated before asking, “Is that what you were to talking to Cloud about?”

Barret nodded. “Yeah. Some of that, at least. Probably should have given him a more straightforward warnin’. You too. I shoulda’ called as soon as I pulled that damn paper out of my mailbox.”

“It’s fine,” Tifa brushed it off. She didn’t have time for guilt, especially since she had plenty of her own to balance with the rest of her problems. “Cloud and I have been getting through this together. I just wish I hadn’t sent him out for work. Should have known something would come up, even if I didn’t expect the phone to stop working. At least if it _was_ working, he could tell me he was okay.”

Barret let out a low grunt before leaning his weight against the wall. “He’s never been good about communicating.”

“He is with me,” Tifa readily defended him.

“Last I heard, that wasn’t the case.”

“He’s not like that anymore,” Tifa stated firmly, feeling more sure of Cloud than she was of anything. Wasn’t hard since nearly _everything_ was confusing now, but _still._ “Even if it’s not in his nature to constantly call back and forth, he’s made a habit of keeping in touch whenever he can. I think it’s sweet.”

Barret laughed a bit awkwardly. “Alright, save the lovey dovey for when he’s _here;_ no use talkin’ with me about it.”

A bit of pink dusted Tifa’s cheeks momentarily. “He’s just been making a huge effort to be a bigger part of the family. I’m really happy about it, that’s all.” Tifa’s smile faded away as thoughts of that family soon being pulled apart entered her mind, and she hated that she couldn’t push them away. “This whole situation gets messier every day, so I was hoping Cloud would be home by now so we could _talk_ …”

Barret’s mouth opened slowly and then quickly clammed shut. Tifa noticed tears welling in his eyes, and better yet, that he wasn’t trying to hide them. There was a big ol’ softy seating himself down on a barstool, his eyes facing front at nothing in particular. He silently cried. No sound, no sniffles, no croaking sounds from the back of his throat. Just a single, slow tear rolling all the way down his cheek before being followed by several more.

Tifa’s throat felt dry, and she quickly poured herself her own glass of milk to get rid of just how _dead_ the inside of her mouth tasted. A few of her own tears mixed with the milk when she tipped her head back for a sip, but she hardly noticed them. The cup was placed back down on the counter with a soft sound, and Tifa found herself looking straight just as Barret was. 

“ _Damn,_ ” Barret got out after a while, his voice breaking. It made him sound weak. Barret wasn’t weak. Tifa knew that better than anyone but Marlene, and yet this large man crying in her bar didn’t seem too far out of place. 

“It’s hard, I know,” Tifa whispered, not intending it to come out that way. “Feels like the whole world is against us sometimes, y’know?” Feeling her emotions bubble, Tifa turned on her heel back to the sink, hiding her face in case another batch of tears was ready to fall. Her hands set to work with busying herself with dishes that were already clean, dunking them into the water a second time. She heard Barret move around a bit behind her as she squirted out some dish soap, and she soon heard his heavy feet pacing around against the floorboards.

“Wish there was someplace safe for us,” he mumbled, lost in thought. “Some kind ‘a safegrounds outside of Midgar and Edge and Junon and all ‘a it.” His voice raised as his own emotions got the best of him, but Tifa had no intention of calming him down. “Take the kids out to the countryside or somethin’. Live off of the stuff we put in tha’ ground; teach ‘em some hard work.” His anger subsided briefly as the image formed in his mind. “You think Spiky would be a good farmer?”

Tifa shrugged. “Maybe. It’d be quite a change from what’s he used to.” _What either of us are used to…_

“Just…imagine that. Wouldn’t even have to be close to any otha’ people, just a nice house, a barn, maybe a tractor or two.” He smiled. “A simple life, but it’d be worth it, I think.”

“Barret…”

“Don’t go tellin’ me it’s wishful thinkin, Tifa,” he scolded her, folding his arms as he looked away again. “You deserve it. So do Marlene and Denzel, and…and _Cloud_ …” he shook his head before laying it in his hands. “The three of us each have some blood on our hands, whetha’ we like it or not, but that was the world we lived in then. Tough choices had to be made. Someone had to stand up.” As he spoke, he actually rose himself, standing straight as he watched out the window. “I know it’s only been three years, but the world is different now. So are we.”

Tifa had no idea how to respond, but she summoned the courage to step away from the counter and stand beside Barret. 

“You gotta promise me somethin’, Teef,” Barret stated, sounding like this promise would mean the world to him. Judging by the look in his eyes, Tifa guessed that it probably _would_. “Promise that you won’t let yourself believe what the world says about ya. Or the kids. Or Cloud. If ya need to, slap that kid silly, right in the face until you knock some sense into ‘im.”

Tifa rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that last part will be necessary.”

“Maybe not,” he chuckled halfheartedly. “But I’m serious. Whatever hell breaks loose in a few days, you’ve just gotta keep ridin’ this train, ya hear? The moment they tell you you’re a good for nothin’ murderer who doesn’t deserve nothin’ good and you _believe_ it…” Barret shook his head sadly, hoping the day would never come, “…then you’ve already let ‘em win. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

She smiled shyly, looking away. “Thanks, Barret.”

“I say that because I know you won’t give up. If they take the bar, your money, your lifestyle, your belongin’s – _whatever,_ then I know you’ll hold Cloud and the kids close to you through it all. Grab ‘em by the hands, grip ‘em tight, and never let go. I’m sure they won’t, either.”

His words rang true, bringing countless memories to Tifa’s attention. She smiled at them all, letting out a contented sigh before nodding her head and catching Barret’s eye. “You’re right. I won’t let go. I promise.”

_Grip ‘em tight. Never let go._

As Tifa could hear Marlene and Denzel coming down the hallway, she kept repeating those words to herself over and over. Even after sitting down with them and Barret over a few plates of microwavable waffles, Tifa kept the pattern going, with Cloud’s face, voice, and words cutting in between.

_Never let go._

_Never. Never._

* * *

As a perfect follow up to an overly crappy day, today was something like a terrible sequel nobody ever asked for. Cloud was asking himself several times just how things could have gotten so _bad_ in such a short amount of time. He sat with his elbows on his knees, resting against the back of a bench on a balcony overlooking a large impound lot. It was already one of his least favorite places.

As a contrast to the day before, Cloud wasn’t alone in his struggle, as a familiar face came to see him. The face itself, however – and the man it belonged to – immediately put out the fires of relief he’d briefly felt when the lady at the desk said someone was waiting for him.

Reno had that stupid smirk on his face, and as he came to sit right beside Cloud, the swordsman slid down closer to the end. “Easy there, Big Stick. I’m not gonna give you cooties. We’re friends, right?”

That wasn’t the word Cloud would use at all, but it was closer than _enemies_ at this point. Still, it didn’t mean he was interested in “chumming up” with the red-haired Turk. Reno was already slouching dramatically, one foot crossed over the other in a way that perfectly matched the messiness of his untucked dress shirt underneath his suit jacket. To be perfectly fair, Cloud had a feeling he’d pull it out from his belt too if he had to wear such a restricting outfit. Cloud Strife didn’t do suits. Unless it was by Tifa’s request, and that had been _one_ time he’d made her promise not to tell anyone about after she nearly lost it over how _dignified_ he looked in it.

_Not my style._

“I’m having a garbage day,” Cloud spoke bluntly, choosing not to directly answer Reno’s question. His eyes fixated on a random car that was scrapped in the corner of the site. “Why are you even here?”

“One of our contacts reported spotting you in Junon yesterday.” Reno’s growing smile was one that could almost be _heard_ , and Cloud didn’t even need to look his way. “Said something about you crawling out of a bar fight. What’s that about, huh?”

“I wasn’t _crawling_ ,” Cloud scoffed. “One of them just…took me by surprise.”

“I see,” Reno nodded, focusing his eyes on Cloud’s forehead so closely that it was uncomfortable. “Got some pretty nasty blood stains up there. Surprised the chick at the desk didn’t kick you out.”

There was more? Cloud lifted a hand to the spot where Reno’s eyes had landed, and sure enough, there was a crusty, gross line there for him to trail with his finger. Cloud almost went to hold out a hand and ask for a handwipe from Tifa’s travel bag, only to remind himself that freaking _Reno_ was there in her place. Still, the movement had been there for a brief moment and Reno snickered.

“What? You want me to lick my thumb and wipe it off your head for you?” He continued to laugh. “Like a _mom_???”

“No!” Cloud shouted before quickly collecting himself. He was in public, and the only reason he was getting so upset over a _joke_ was because it came from the mouth of one of the most aggravating people on the Planet. “Whatever, I’ll clean it off myself.” He went to stand up and look for the bathroom, but Reno grabbed his shoulder.

“Nah, nah, it’s a good look for you.”

Cloud gave Reno the coldest glare he could muster before standing up anyway. Like a loving puppy – _Ew, Strife, don’t make that comparison –_ Reno followed close behind. “So, they gonna give you your ride back or what?” He looked in a random direction, not knowing where exactly Fenrir had been taken, and quite honestly, neither did Cloud. “That thing’s pretty sick, gotta admit. I’d hate to go from riding that thing to driving the family minivan, you know?”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “We don’t have a minivan.”

“You don’t? Gotta fix that fast, Strife. I think a cute little car would at least complete the picture, huh? The hot mom in the driver’s seat, two kids in the back, and the grumpy dad behind the wheel with the ‘kill me now’ eyes flickering everytime you’re forced to obey the speed limit.”

“I don’t have energy for your crap,” Cloud retorted.

“Or for the speed limit,” Reno jabbed. He was laying that one on _thick,_ leaving Cloud with very little room to escape the subject. “Does she know yet or no? Still trying to come up with a way to say, ‘honey, my bike got impounded because I was speeding’ that won’t cement this day in history as one that the family will bring up at the dinner table for generations to come?”

“Shut up.”

“Someone’s upset.”

“No, duh.”

“So answer my question,” Reno persisted, falling right in step with Cloud so that the timing of each leg sweeping forward and each arm swinging back and forth were in near perfect sync. As if they knew each other that well. “You getting your bike back or what?”

Cloud questioned whether it was worth his time to humor Reno or if answering the simple question would really hurt anything. Finally, he gave in, muttering a, “I don’t have the gil to pay the fine.” He didn’t feel embarrassed about it – he just left his money back home, no big deal – but from Reno’s reaction, one would think that he’d just admitted to carrying out a string of crimes.

A sharp laugh – short and piercing – came from Reno before he clapped Cloud on the back. The unexpected contact made Cloud stumble for a second, glaring daggers back at Reno. “Didn’t realize you were that broke. Lemme guess, money in the household goes, ‘what’s mine is hers and what’s hers is hers’?” As if speaking from experience, Reno clarified, “I’ve known a few women like that. Nothing to be ashamed about.” His tone of voice and sneaky grin told otherwise.

“No, that’s not it, Tifa’s not…you’re just… _ugh_ ,” Cloud let out an exasperated sound before storming off. “How many times are you going to bug me?”

“How high can you count?” Reno snickered, coming right beside Cloud once again. 

Ignoring that, Cloud added, “And stop bringing everything back to Tifa. It’s…weird.”

Reno offered a blank expression before holding up his hands. “Hey, bro to bro. Bros don’t steal bros’ girls. Unless you’re being a pain in the ass, in which case maybe I would reconsider.”

Cloud just shook his head, coming to stop at the door to the impound again. “Well, I’m heading inside to see if I can…convince the desk lady or something, I don’t know.”

Reno frowned. “Hey, what _are_ you doing out here anyway? I mean, I get that sometimes you go for a drink to forget the real life stuff for a little while, but don’t you _live_ in one? Figured you only liked Tifa’s drinks anyway.”

“Mhm,” Cloud nodded, only half listening as he grabbed the door handle only to realize it was locked. He noticed the sign signaling that it was an exit only door, and groaned. “I’m on the job. Much more productive than whatever you’re doing.”

“Technically, this is my job,” Reno shrugged. “Or, I guess it was some other chump’s job before I took it. As soon as I heard you were out and about stirring trouble, I came in to watch you.” Upon Cloud’s look of discomfort, Reno snorted. “Oh come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t expect that we’d do that sometimes.”

Cloud sighed. “This is about the couple with the letter, right?” Reno nodded, and he waved him away. “Don’t need you on babysitting duty. What – did you think I was gonna go kill them or something?”

“You’ve done odder things,” Reno interjected, but gave no further explanation. “And don’t worry, I’m not babysitting. Rude calls it up-close surveillance but I like to think of it as just chillin’ out. The two of us go way back.”

“Not interested,” Cloud fired his typical line and turned away, deciding to go around the building to the front entrance. 

“I mean, yeah, you’ve never been great at making friends, but you’ve gotta start eventually, right? Get together a bunch of-“

“Stop it!” Cloud suddenly shouted, spinning on his heel to shove a gloved hand into Reno’s chest which pushed him back a few inches. “Just… _stop._ If you know about the letter, then why are you delighting in _wasting my time_?”

Reno clicked his tongue. “It really is that serious, huh?”

“Yes,” Cloud gritted out. “Did you think I’d just ignore it? Just blow it off and treat the whole thing as empty threats?”

“No…?”

“This is _ridiculously_ serious, so much so that me and Tifa’s lives could be completely changed in an instant.” Cloud narrowed his eyes, getting closer to Reno, who stood his ground surprisingly well. “All I want is to get back to her, but literally _everything_ is going wrong. The bike is locked up, my packages were damaged, I went to talk to the couple and I think they hate me even _more_ now…”

“And the phone isn’t working?” Reno added the final piece before his eyes widened. “Wait, you went to their house?”

“No, _you_ first,” Cloud argued. “How’d you know about the phones?”

“When did you visit the couple’s house?” Reno pushed a bit further.

“The _phones_ , Reno,” Cloud’s voice lowered, sounding almost threatening. “How did you know?”

“Alright, fine, our agent watching the bar reported that the phone line had been cut. There, you happy?”

“No,” Cloud frowned, folding his arms. “You’re telling me there’s a spy watching Tifa and the kids right now? That’s an invasion of privacy, and you know it.”

“Chill, chill, he was just sent out yesterday afternoon,” Reno winced back, dodging Cloud’s intense glare. “We only wanted to get a close look at the bar after we’d heard news of you getting into a fight. This letter stuff has got a lot of people talking, you know.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “I’m sure it has. Whatever, Reno, just…can you send a message to your spy then?”

“Not a spy, and no, I can’t. His mission is over; he isn’t at the bar anymore.”

“He’s already done?”

“Easy, killer, you didn’t want the spy, remember?”

Cloud was almost seething, but he managed to cool himself. “Tell me you at least came here in something with two seats.”

Reno quirked a brow. “I mean, Edge isn’t necessarily close, and I think Rude can sense when someone else takes his spot in the car, but what the heck.”

“Seriously?”

“No, not at all. What, you think Rude’s psychic or something?”

“…I hate you so much.”

* * *

“And this one is me and Denzel giving Nanaki a bath,” Marlene explained as she continued to dig through stacks of drawings she had piled on her bed. Barret stood above, looking over her shoulder with amusement. 

“And what’s Cloud doing in the corna’ there?” he asked, jabbing his finger at a mess of yellow crayon spikes that undoubtedly belonged to Cloud. “He holdin’ a…a _bottle_ or somethin’?”

“No, it’s his phone,” Marlene giggled and then slid the drawing away to pull out another. “He’s taking a picture to show Tifa when she gets home. Oh, and this one is just a butterfly.”

Barret raised an eyebrow, feeing it kinda odd to move on from very specific drawings to…a butterfly. “Jus’ a butterfly?”

“Yep,” Marlene nodded. “I got bored, and my brain ran out of ideas.” She began scratching her head and then looked down at the assorted crayons with an excited smirk plastering across her lips. “You can draw with me too, right, Daddy?”

“Hmm? Uh- oh, okay,” he mumbled, being as careful as he could when Marlene motioned for him to sit on her tiny bed beside her. Thankfully, nothing broke, but the feeling of the bedframe digging into the inside of his leg was enough to get a groan out of him.

“You can use this half,” Marlene stated, sliding several handfuls of crayons over to him. 

“Okay…”

“And you can only use your half of the paper, or else it isn’t fair,” Marlene added with that smile still ever so present. “And don’t color over my part either.”

“Wasn’t going to, sweetheart,” Barret chuckled. “Who taught ya to be so bossy, anyway?”

Marlene’s response was overlapped with the sound of a car horn beeping repeatedly outside. “Oh, who could that be?”

“Cloud?” Barret guessed, looking from the open door back to Marlene just to see the hope rush to her eyes and flush out her cheeks. To his dismay, it never came, and the girl just shook her head sadly.

“Cloud doesn’t have a horn like that on Fenrir.” Dismissing the issue quite quickly, she turned back to the crayons. “I’m going to draw a house. You should draw a trampoline on your side, so the people can always be happy. I think the people this time should be Cid and Shera.” She sounded so delightfully excited at the notion that Barret failed to suppress another chuckle.

“You want me to draw Cid jumping around on his backside like a lil’ kid?” He asked. Marlene nodded. “Can _do._ You got a pink crayon anywhere in here? Gonna make this one a drawing to remember.”

“ _No_ , Daddy, you can only use _your_ crayons.”

“Alright, fine, fine,” he sighed.

Then, from the other room, _“Look what I found crawling around all alone? A puppy!”_

Marlene’s head instantly shot up. “A puppy?”

“That voice sounds familiar,” Barret mumbled as he stood to his feet. Holding up a hand, he ensured Marlene was still seated before approaching the door. “You stay there, sweetie, I’m gonna check it out.”

He definitely _wasn’t_ expecting to see unfortunately iconic red hair the second he made his way down the stairs, but Barret wasn’t going to let three years of getting rusty stop him from shoving the end of his gun arm up in Reno’s chest. He had moved so quickly, protectively shoving a confused Tifa aside as he confronted the intruder. “Ya dirty Turk! What beef you got with Tifa, you got with me. You gotta lot of guts walkin’ in here.”

“Easy, big guy, I come in peace,” Reno said while holding up his hand in a weird gesture that must have come from one of Gaia’s numerous space flicks. “Wasn’t planning on coming over – in fact, I should be far, far away from this place – but I found this rascal sitting around all alone.” Reno stepped to the side, making it easier to see the blonde ex-merc who was standing with an agitated scowl that quickly turned into a shy smile of embarrassment when noticing the others.

“Cloud,” Tifa nearly forgot to breathe, and when she remembered, she let out a relieved laugh before pulling Cloud in for a hug. “You came back.”

He hummed into her hair, hugging back. “I did. Sorry it had to take so long.”

“I don’t get it,” Barret broke into the moment, still aiming his gun at Reno, this time at his head. “Where’s your bike, Cloud? And why is this scumbag driving ya over here? You shouldn’t trust him.”

“He and Rude helped us out a bit when Kadaj had the kids,” Tifa offered quietly, pulling away from Cloud long enough to grab his wrist and pull him inside. “They also found us unconscious and brought us back here instead of just killing us, so…there’s that.”

Reno smirked. “We’re men of many talents, and shattering expectations every single time is one of them.”

“I’ll shatter your _skull_ if you don’t stop talkin’,” Barret got out gruffly. He arched his neck a bit, looking at Cloud for assistance. “You’re home now, right Spiky? Tell your cab driver he can leave now.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Reno blurted before tipping Barret’s gun arm out of his face and darting out the door. “See you around, chumps!” His exaggerated exit was accompanied by squealing tires as his car sped away in a matter of moments. Barret scoffed and turned away, not impressed.

“I hate that guy.”

Tifa couldn’t care less, hurrying to pour Cloud a Cosmo Canyon while he set his bags and weapon sheathe beside the coat rack. Her eyes kept darting back over to him while she mixed the liquid, noting his solemn expression when he looked around the bar, and the pained look in his eyes when he reached into his pocket out of instinct and grasped his keys. “Come have a drink,” she said while doing a ‘come forth’ gesture with her fingers. To her relief, he offered a small smile before crossing the room and plopping himself down on a barstool. He looked _really_ tired, but Tifa wasn’t quick to judge as she was almost certain she looked the same way.

Silently, she passed him the glass. He had a different kind of smile spreading as he looked down into the pool of red, one that felt pleasantly nostalgic and caused Tifa’s heart to flutter. It was the kind of smile she liked seeing on him most and one she knew how to easily spur out of him, but did so in moderation because seeing it every so often was such a great feeling. Cloud lifted the glass to his lips, taking a quick shot, and then dropped it.

“Thanks,” he voiced, and then let out a long, winded sigh while his muscles relaxed. “It feels great to be home. _Really_ great.”

Before Tifa could respond, Barret came over to join the conversation. It wasn’t that she minded, but it was evident there was something Cloud wouldn’t tell her up front. Something he’d reserve for when they were alone. Given the circumstances, Tifa wanted to know _now_ , but wasn’t about to let that excuse her from her own manners.

“Wasn’t expecting to beat ya here,” Barret pointed out, coming to sit beside Cloud. “The way you were talkin’ yesterday, I thought for sure you’d be headin’ home fast as you could.”

Some more noteworthy exchanges from the day before came back to Cloud as he looked around the bar.

_Don’t lie to Tifa, or to me, and definitely not to Marlene. We both got a responsibility to tell the truth to ‘em, not matter how much it hurts._

“I’ve had a pretty crappy past twenty-four hours,” Cloud offered as his first excuse, and although he had every intention of elaborating further, he paused to take another sip. After it was done, he met Tifa’s eyes. She was watching him – _waiting_. She appeared concerned yet understanding. Wanting answers but not impatient. Did he _deserve_ her?

 _They need your words of encouragement, your honesty, your care…_ Cloud recalled Barret thumping him in the chest. _…and most importantly, what’s in here. There’s a beautiful bartender who looks to you as the leader of the home._

Cloud still hadn’t spoken yet, and while he still intended to, he kept looking at Tifa for a bit more.

_You love that girl._

_Don’t ya?_

Of course he did. He had for a long time, even if bringing himself to admitting it out loud took far longer than either of them would have wanted. This was the girl who had stuck by him through thick and thin. The girl who had pieced him back together. The girl who excitedly began building a future with him and waited for him when he disappointed her. _Patient_ was nearly the perfect word to describe her, because Cloud knew well enough how difficult he could be.

_Make sure that’s what she can hold to most. Make sure she knows, before a time comes when you can’t tell her._

Cloud glanced down at his glass. Should he try to make it sound entirely planned and cool? Use the old ‘call the drink beautiful when you’re clearly watching her matching eyes’ trick to see if, after all these years, she’d still blush and look away like she did then? Maybe he should make it more sincere, or be entirely blunt?

But Barret was seated beside him, and Tifa needed answers from him. Answers she rightfully deserved. Additionally, Cloud wanted to spare himself the relentless teasing he’d get from the older man if he tried using the L word on Tifa with him literally right there.

“I messed up,” Cloud finally managed to get out. “I was going to come home at my normal time, but I got it in my head that somehow I could fix all of this on my own.”

Tifa’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and she leaned a bit closer across the counter, her arms folded under her chest. “What do you mean? What did you do?” She didn’t sound mad, but definitely worried that he’d done something stupid, because he’d done stupid things before. He really couldn’t blame her.

“I…I went to the couple’s house,” Cloud admitted, biting the inside of his cheek. His eyes tore away from Tifa’s, only briefly watching how they widened in surprise. 

“Uh, what?” Barret cleared his throat. “Did you interpret my advice entirely wrong or somethin’? I said to be there for your family, not go visit _theirs_.”

“I know, it was dumb, but it was the only idea I had,” Cloud spoke slowly, be cautious of what he said next. “I thought that maybe if I talked to them…in person…maybe I could get them to reconsider what they said in the letter. I told them you and the kids didn’t deserve any of that,” he added, looking back up at Tifa, who was almost unreadable now. “But the husband, he…he’s so angry. So _bitter._ I was being as nice as I could – I promise.”

“So you asked him not to do anything to me and the kids,” Tifa started, “but did nothing to defend yourself.” It didn’t even come as a question, because she knew him that well. A mixture of disappointment and concern washed over her. “This is why we need to stick together. Otherwise, who is reminding you to think of yourself?”

Like a child being scolded by his mother, Cloud hung his head sheepishly. “I was just trying to see what he’d do. Left myself out of it, because I figured he hated me the most.”

“Which is why we should have gone together,” Tifa’s response caught Cloud by surprise – not at first, since he had expected her to bring it up, but after he noticed that she was running her nails along the edge of the counter and that she meant something _more_. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, Cloud. It was too sudden for me to make the decision for you.”

“Huh?”

“Going to work,” Tifa contributed, seeming a bit surprised that he wasn’t… _what_? Upset? Mad? Expectant? “I said we should get back to work and act like nothing ever happened, but that was stupid. I can’t figure out a way to work through this alone and I don’t think you can either.”

 _Still, it took me getting yelled at by a stranger at his house for five minutes to realize that,_ Cloud reminded himself a bit bitterly. “Guess we’re both to blame, but you were only doing what you thought was right.” Sneaking a small, thankful nod in Barret’s direction, Cloud added, “I’m supposed to the leader of the home. Instead of acting like it, I left the decision-making for you.”

“No, I jumped ahead while you were still thinking of a solution,” Tifa argued against it, although she smiled at his humility. “I did it too fast; that’s that.”

Barret coughed awkwardly at the side. “You gonna finish your story, or what?”

Cloud’s face hardened in thought. “I mean, there was more that went on, but…you probably don’t wanna hear th-“ He caught his tongue just after hearing floorboards creaking down the hall, and he craned his neck to get a closer look. “Marlene,” he confirmed audibly, and Tifa moved to meet the girl. Instead, Barret held a hand to stop her. 

“Don’t. I’ll go down and keep Marlene company. I’ll tell her you’re alright, Spiky.”

“Thanks,” Cloud nodded. Even though a part of him longed to run into the kids’ bedrooms and see their smiling faces – to confirm to himself that they were still there, that no one had taken them away – Cloud needed time. From the look on Tifa’s face, so did she. How would he explain to Marlene and Denzel that he skipped having dinner with them the night before because he got in a bar fight and intruded on the property of the man who seemingly hated him most?

“I got in a fight,” he offered quietly, keeping his eyes lowered while waiting for her to take up that information and say anything about it.

She remained silent, however, tapping two fingers against the counter like she normally did when she desperately needed something to do. “I could guess it was something like that.” She didn’t sound upset or disappointed, and Cloud felt relief. “It was a problem I set you up for, huh?”

His head shot right back up, not expecting for her to feel that way about it at _all_. Tifa looked guilty and pained, looking away from him as if the roles had been flipped and she expected a cold scolding from _him_. “N-no, you didn’t set me up for anything. I called Reeve to ask for the couple’s home address, and while I waited, I went to a bar in Junon.”

Tifa’s guilt was quickly replaced with curiosity, finally looking back at him. “Another bar?”

Cloud winced at her tone. “Only because it was the only thing out there. I promise.”

“I’m not bitter about you going to another bar, Cloud,” Tifa rolled her eyes, and an amused smile graced her lips. “Is that why you’ve never gone to any before? You were worried you’d hurt my self-esteem?” He gave no forward answer, and Tifa actually laughed. A soft, bubbly laugh that completely pierced the dark fog circling Cloud’s head. 

For a moment, he forgot about the letter. He was seated there at the bar – _their_ bar – on one of the seats he’d installed for them, with the woman he loved teasing him, talking with him, and _laughing_. He loved her laugh a lot more than he’d admitted to her before. Her smile was infectious, too, and she quickly noticed his own spreading.

“I think it’s kinda cute, honestly,” Tifa admitted, reaching across to take both of Cloud’s hands in both of hers. The feeling of her cold skin rubbing against his sent a low shiver down his back. “Sounds like I’m still your favorite bartender?”

“Well, the other one threw a bottle at my head, so yeah,” Cloud chuckled. “Among plenty of other reasons, of course.” 

“Well, good,” Tifa beamed. “Otherwise, I was gonna have to work my hardest to win you back.” Her smile was much more or a smirk now, making her look sneaky and decisive along with one of her eyebrows raising just a bit. 

“You’d barely have to try,” Cloud assured her, meeting her tempting glance with one of his own. 

“Really?” she chirped. “I think I’d still go all out, just to make sure I leave a good, lasting impression.” She was nearly purring, and while it was a tone she didn’t take up often, it still came across occasionally. Her left hand left his and began playing with the zipper of his sweater, laughing again at his sound of surprise. “Gotta keep you coming back for more.”

“We even still talking about one-upping the other bars or…?”

“Take a wild guess,” Tifa quipped before leaning in to peck his lips. It was quick and teasing – Cloud’s least and most favorite kind. Then, her smile fell just a bit, and she kissed him slower. “I really missed you.”

Cloud hummed against her mouth. When she pulled away, the corner of his own mouth slightly quirked. “I missed you, too. I tried calling, but…”

“The phone line is dead,” Tifa answered bluntly, if not a bit sourly. Not at Cloud, of course, so she focused her eyes on the floor when she said it. “Someone sabotaged it.”

Cloud’s eyes narrowed. “Who would-?”

She cut him off with another kiss, and this time Cloud was laughing. “What?” Tifa giggled. 

“I’m starting to think you _are_ jealous about me visiting another bar.”

“Not at all,” she shook her head. “But if I was…”

“I could give you another kiss?”

Tifa rolled her eyes. “I was going to say that the garage needs to be cleaned out. You left quite a mess when you left. Bike parts, weapon attachments…”

“I’m on it,” Cloud sighed. “Or…I _would_ be on it, if you were jealous. Which you’re not.”

“Well then, maybe I am.”

“Hmm? I don’t know, I’m not so convinced.”

“Want me to _look_ convincing?” She had begun giving him the pouty lips, and as Cloud stifled a laugh, Barret’s voice boomed from down the hall, rambling on about stupid lovebirds before turning his attention on Marlene to tell her _not_ to take any notes from her foster parents. Cloud blocked it all out after hearing Barret begin voicing his own advice.

He was happy today. Even after having his bike impounded and spending most of the morning with _Reno_ of all people, this undoubtedly made up for it. He just wanted to hold onto that peaceful happiness, wrap his arms around Tifa, and stay like that.

But happiness had already been threatened. How long could he really distract himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment your thoughts! :)


	5. A Mask to Hide a Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud and Tifa go together to pick up Fenrir, only to be met with further distractions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chappie! Please bear with me in the next few chapters, because while I suddenly have way more time to work on them, it's not really under nice circumstances. My mom has covid, and it's quite possible that when my own results come back, I might have it too. Not asking for pity points or anything, just letting you guys know just in case this upload schedule goes crazy. Gonna be stuck inside for at least two weeks, so we'll see what happens.
> 
> In other news, despite my inability to focus on hardly anything I'm writing when listening to music, I forced myself to try and change that this week because Remake OST is finally on Spotify BAYBEE
> 
> I've listened to Hollow, Cloud's Theme, Tifa's Theme, the various battle themes, A Broken World, and On Our Way way too many times lol. Good stuff
> 
> enjoy the longest chapter yet, sitting at 9,766 words. Could've padded it out to 10k, but it would have hurt the thing tbh.

“And Denzel? How’s he holding up?” Tifa asked in a hushed tone, tilting her head away from the rest of the room with her phone pressed against her ear. Leaving it to sit out and dry for an hour had seemingly done the trick, fortunately enough, and it hadn’t gotten very wet in the first place. 

Cloud glanced at Tifa over his shoulder, realizing now more than ever how worried she must have been for the kids. Still, he shoved that thought to the side temporarily after hearing the lady at the desk clear her throat. The impound had been surprisingly patient (and _gracious_ ) but taking Fenrir back into his possession had been a longer string of processes than he could have imagined. Signing things, showing ID and license, signing more things…

It was like the awful kind of desk jobs that Cloud would choose almost any other profession over. He hadn’t really thought of it much, but at the end of the day, the idea of sitting at a desk for hours a day just _signing_ stuff sounded like a bore. Sure, running the delivery business required him to do a bit of paperwork here and there, but it was nothing he couldn’t get done quickly before putting his hands to _good_ use somewhere else.

Tifa continued chatting with Barret on the phone while Cloud signed his name on yet _another_ page. They’d only been gone from the bar for a little over an hour, and yet it felt like the entire day had gone to waste. Noticing a bit too late how the room was void of sounds beside Tifa’s own phone call, Cloud attempted to say something – _anything._ “You know, with all these papers I’m signing, you’d think I was _buying_ a vehicle.”

The lady looked up at him through her glasses, widening a bit in a bit of confusion before softening right along with the line of her mouth. She didn’t offer him any reaction other than a short laugh that sounded a lot more like a “hmmm” pitched a bit at the end. It reminded Cloud of the rare but meaningful “I’m laughing but not really” laugh that Tifa had whenever he nervously laughed something off or offered a poor excuse for walking inside with muddy boots.

_Laughing but not really,_ Cloud juggled the words around in his head absentmindedly as he waited for the lady to process the information in her computer. _Happy, but…_

He turned to Tifa, watching her frown at something said over the line that he hadn’t heard. _…not really._

This was _stupid._ He was stupid. It was all stupid, wasn’t it? Even just comparing the hurt in her voice and eyes to when he’d left her after contracting Geostigma was needlessly dragging himself through the dirt. Cloud might have felt stupid, but he really wasn’t – not when it came to things like that. He was supposed to be better than that now. No – he _was_ better than that now. Any time spent thinking the opposite was meaningless, fruitless, _useless-_

Now fate had forcefully handed him a series of circumstances and – for lack of a better word – punishments. Although he was sure no one blamed him for thinking the way he was given those circumstances, Cloud was determined not to let that be the case. After all, the man he had been for the past year was the man with whom Tifa was always happy around, with no self-isolations or avoided phone calls included. What better way to prove his spirit than to keep _that_ man concrete and unchanged in the midst of his hardest struggle yet?

It wasn’t easy, but Cloud was stubbornly dedicated. If he was in the mood, he’d make a promise to Tifa just for good measure. At least he was good at keeping those. In some cases, promises could be the extra incentive urging him to stay true to his word no matter what.

So, when the lady finally handed Cloud a pair of keys to the locks and directed him towards the spot where Fenrir was parked, he wrapped an arm around Tifa and grounded himself. He was staying. With her, with Marlene, with Denzel, with Barret, with the bar – with _all_ of it. It’d been a long time since he’d trained himself to see the old church not as a panic room but as a memory, and it’d stay that way.

Tifa made a soft sound of surprise at the sudden embrace, and her own arm went low to wrap around his waist while they walked together. “We should do this more often.”

Cloud gently arched a brow. The holding? The contact? The… “…getting my bike impounded?” his thoughts came out as words near the end, and Tifa gave a bubbly laugh in his ear.

“I was going to say getting out of the house together more often would be nice, but if that’s what it takes to make it happen, break all the speed limits you want.” She was joking, of course, while the cocky glint in her eyes almost suggested otherwise. “Definitely doesn’t always have to be a date – in fact, it probably shouldn’t be.” Upon Cloud’s look of confusion, she further elaborated with, “… _most_ of the time. Dates are fun and sweet, but I just want to spend more time with you…you know?”

“Yeah,” Cloud found himself quickly smiling. The idea was far too tempting already. “Away from work, and with the kids under Barret’s careful watch, of course.”

“Mhm.” Tifa looked up at the sky before taking a deep, long breath. “I don’t usually get to enjoy sunny days like this. Takes too long to get work at the bar done before I allow myself any freedom. That’s all my own fault, though.”

Cloud tilted his head thoughtfully. “The lady said Fenrir’s all juiced up. Feel up for a ride?”

Tifa nodded. “Sounds wonderful. I think we should stop by the grocery market on the way back, though. If the bar’s staying closed for a while, than we should stock up when we can.” She had already swung one leg over Fenrir’s seat before Cloud could think much of what she said, wrapping both of her arms around his waist as he gripped the handlebars. “Don’t worry, I brought my wallet.”

“No, no, you…” Cloud bit his tongue before starting over. “You’re keeping the bar closed?”

Tifa’s mouth opened, but all that came out was an incomprehensible “ _ah_ ” before she clammed. “Yes,” she offered, sounding as confident as she could despite the slight waver. “Like we were talking about earlier: working ourselves to death to take our minds off of the letter was stupid. Don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

Cloud chuckled. “Yes, ma’m.”

“Good. I just figured that, with your recent deliveries bringing in more pay than usual and the bar still keeping up a steady income, I would…close the bar.” Tifa shook her head. “Almost feels wrong to say that.”

“No,” Cloud raised his voice a bit. “I get it.”

“We have enough to keep ourselves fed and healthy for a while. Makes you glad we ended up building the bar ourselves instead of renting, huh?”

“Yeah, don’t remind me of all that work we did to pay off the lot,” Cloud grumbled, and felt the vibrations of Tifa’s chest against his back when she giggled. “Felt like chasing monsters in Scrap Boulevard again, but turned up to an eleven.”

“Yeah.” As Cloud turned his keys and started Fenrir’s engine, igniting a low rumble, Tifa slowly asked, “What do we wanna do from here on out?”

_We. Not you, not her, but_ we. _Don’t let the pressure crush you or anything like that._

“I just don’t want things to change.” Cloud’s voice came out cracked and vulnerable, which he’d normally care to cover up if it had been anyone else beside him but Tifa. It wasn’t a direct answer to the question, nor did it solve _anything,_ but Tifa hummed thoughtfully behind him.

“Well, maybe we have to pick up the pieces somewhere else,” she nearly whispered, resting her head on Cloud’s back. He was wasting fuel like this – he _knew_ he was – but there was something about the constant sounds of Fenrir’s engine that gave Cloud an odd sense of control. If anything were to happen, he could go from 0 to 60 in seconds, taking Tifa along with him. He trusted himself at Fenrir’s reigns. 

“Where else?” he asked.

“Our family. We need a plan to keep us together.”

Cloud hated how quickly he responded with, “Tifa, you _read_ the letter-“

“I know I did, but…I don’t know, maybe there isn’t as much weight to their words as you think,” Tifa suggested, sounding surprisingly sure of herself. Her heat was pressed against his back as she relaxed into him further, almost giving him a big ‘ol bear hug from behind. “Can they take the bar away? Probably. Can they ruin your business? Most likely. But Cloud, there’s a fine line between taking away a bar and taking away a child.”

“So, you’re saying that we should just _hope_ they don’t take the kids,” Cloud surmised, only to hear Tifa sigh disappointedly behind him.

“No, it’s more than that. When we faced challenges in the past, we fought them. I think we just finally reached the point where our fists and huge swords can’t do that fighting for us. If a judge looked me in the eye and told me, ‘Tifa Lockhart, we’re taking your children’, do you think I’d stand there and let it happen?”

Cloud felt like he was missing something here. She’d go against the judge – against the _law_ , even – despite the clear consequences? “Tifa. That’s awfully risky.”

“Am I saying I’d break the law? Maybe, I don’t know,” Tifa admitted dangerously, and Cloud could almost feel her smile against his back. “But I’d do everything I could. For _you_ , too.”

Cloud felt a bit lighter. “You’d break the law for me?”

“Of course that would go straight to your head,” Tifa laughed. “Same old Cloud. Never change.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Still, I was…oh, great.” Cloud trailed off glumly as he noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket. After shooting Tifa a quick glance over his shoulder, he glared at the lettering UNKNOWN CALLER before answering the call and bringing the device to his ear. “This is Cloud.”

Tifa watched Cloud’s face switch between confused, angry, and worried several times in a row before he muttered a, “On my way,” and hung up. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still doing deliveries…?”

“No, no,” Cloud sighed. One arm fell freely to his side while the other bent upwards as he flipped his phone in his hand. He was considering what he’d just been told, and what he should do about it. “There’s a gunfight happening somewhere in Midgar. Someone needs our help. You mind coming along?”

Tifa couldn’t hide her smile. “Did you know I still keep my gloves on me just in case?”

“I did,” Cloud nodded. “Hang on, I’m going to be breaking those speed limits you talked about.”

“And who is it we’re breaking them for this time?”

There was a short hesitance. “The Turks.”

“Ah.”

* * *

Midgar always had a repulsive smell, but now it was even worse. Making one’s way through the rubble and torn up roads of the city was always a challenge, not always because of the monsters that now inhabited the area occasionally in the humans’ absence, but because of the atmosphere. A city thriving off of Mako always presented its own issues, regardless of who you asked, but after its destruction, the Mako _reeked._

That was all that was left of it: the awful smell. Whatever Mako hadn’t been used by Shinra’s massive cannon to fend off against Weapon had lingered behind in ways it hadn’t before. Much like how the Geostigma had wound its way through the Lifestream, the leftover Mako in Midgar left a bad aftertaste. A city that once smelled like rotten eggs or cigars – depending on which sector one resided in – now smelled like aged Mako, somehow being received like burnt toast and bad alcohol all at once.

Now, it was all Reno allowed himself to think about as his face collided with rough concrete. “Rude! What was that for?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes tightly before swaying back and forth in a desperate attempt to regain his balance. Pain was rushing to his forehead, but the approaching threat close by kept Reno from succumbing. 

His partner gawked for a moment, thankful that the tinted lenses of his sunglasses hid how his own eyes had slightly widened in concern and regret. Rude recomposed himself enough to mutter a quick, “sorry” before shifting positions with a pistol in hand. 

“For the love of-“ Reno panted, catching his breath, “ _Rude!_ Stop _shooting,_ you’re gonna direct them to Elena!” He gestured to the sea of blonde hair sprawled out on the floor, hiding an unconscious face. “Tseng is gonna have our hides if we let these guys outside finish her off.”

“You’re in no shape to fight either,” Rude reminded him sharply, not taking his eyes off of the enemy for a second. He suddenly rolled to have his back against the doorframe, dodging bullet fire, before rolling right back and answering with his own steady aim. _One, two,_ and the third bullet went straight through someone’s face. Allowing himself time to reload and shove down his own satisfaction, Rude moved further behind cover and looked over at Reno. “Took care of the sniper.”

“Which one?” Reno groaned, shaking his head. “There had to have been at least seven of them when this fiasco started. We’re royally _screwed._ ”

Rude began weighing his options in his head, going back and forth, until he finally straightened his shoulders and shoved his weapon into Reno’s hands. “Cover me while I carry Elena to somewhere safe.”

“You just said I was-“

“I know what I said,” Rude nodded. “But I’m trusting you.”

Reno flashed a wicked smile, reloading the pistol and clutching it tightly between his fingers. “So I’m not strong enough to carry a woman on my own but I can fire a gun? If I didn’t know any better, Rude, I’d say you were – AUGH!” Reno sputtered as he hit the dirt, recovering from the nearby explosion of a thrown grenade. “…scared. I was going to say ‘scared.’”

Rude only made a soft sound of amusement as he gently scooped Elena’s small, petite body into his arms, propping the back of her head on his forearm. He then began the slow, careful process of maneuvering himself over and around rubble and glass, making his way to a staircase that led to the next floor. Reno followed close behind with his back to Rude and his arms extended, ready to fire the gun.

“It’s awfully quiet out there now,” Reno remarked. “Probably circling around the building.” 

“We’ll see,” Rude added simply, and as he reached the highest floor, he nudged open a door with the back of his shoe. It slowly swung open, and after craning his neck a bit to check for occupancy, he entered. “Check the cabinets for a first aid kit.”

“I’m the one holding the gun – okay, now you have the gun,” Reno surrendered without any protest, and made his way over to the cabinets. He swung a few open, digging messily through the contents, before groaning out in frustration. “Nothing. Not a single _band-aid_.” He turned to see where Rude was carefully laying Elena down on the examination table. “I’ll check the other room. You keep an eye on her, alright?” Before Rude could respond, Reno was grabbing the gun back already and making his way out.

After a few minutes, Reno returned with an armful of first aid kits and medicines, only managing to barely balance the pistol’s length on three bent fingers. The Turk felt awkward – and he knew there was no way he could actually defend himself – so he wasted no time in dumping everything onto a fold-up table close to Elena. “How about this, eh?”

Rude glanced over and nodded. “That should do. Watch the door; I’ll patch her up.”

“Well, with any luck, our backup is only a few minutes out,” Reno smirked over his shoulder. Holding the gun in both hands now, he kept his eyes glued to the staircase outside the door. “Knowing him, he’s probably gotta make some kind of grand entrance.”

* * *

On the other side of the skirmish, a few armored men yelled out as a engine roared behind them. They each jumped out of the way, narrowly saving their own skins as Fenrir’s sleek blacks and golds flew past in a blur of motion. Skidding to a stop, the back of Fenrir’s wheels scraped the wall of a concrete building just before the vehicle’s driver flipped off of the seat with his massive sword cutting through the air as he went. Another figure jumped forward with fists at the ready, and as he landed, so did she.

Cloud deliberately swung at one warrior who was wielding a sword of his own, taking him by surprise. Taking advantage, Cloud began a steady offensive, pushing the warrior back towards the rest with _one, two,_ three more swings that clashed and bounced off of the much smaller weapon in rapid succession. As he noticed some coming behind him, Cloud tilted his sword in mid-swing, knocking back the weapons behind him before returning right back to the first warrior. He had nearly pressured him down to the ground before the sudden waves of enemies forced him to double back and focus his energy into an attack that would harm multiple targets at once.

Making good use of some ice Materia – the same he had been using since being a merc in Midgar – Cloud formed a large frozen explosion in the center of the enemies that quickly expanded into massive shards with frost covering the scene. Unable to see the results but clearly hearing bodies thudding against the ground, Cloud felt content and began looking around for Tifa. She was seemingly nowhere in sight, until-

“Cloud, look out!” she called from behind him, and as he whipped around towards a warrior who was charging him full force with his sword extended for a thorough stab, Tifa had rushed forward, quickly outrunning her opponent, and kneed him in the stomach. All it took was following up with a punch to the helmeted head and a swift, full-arched kick that sent him flying.

“Thanks,” Cloud breathed, hiding how pleased he must have looked. They’d fought together hundreds of times. Still, it had been a good long while since a fight like _this_ , hadn’t it?

Tifa merely nodded at him with a small smile, but her face was still stiffened in resolve as she looked around. “We took care of the guys who were hanging around back here, but there’s no sign of the Turks.”

“Then we’ll keep moving.” Cloud held his Fusion Sword tightly in one hand as he continued, finding it odd that the scene was now completely silent. Tifa was reaching out to grab his forearm before he could voice his concern, and was pointing in the direction of a building across the street. She had a finger to her lips, reminding Cloud to stay quiet, before he nodded and led the way.

The broken road forced both of them to watch their step carefully, only resting their weight on the biggest pieces that would have the lowest chance of breaking away or crumbling. Cloud slowly did circles as he went on, acting in orbit around Tifa with his sword held out to block sudden fire. When nothing happened, his shoulders relaxed.

Tifa pushed past the doors and made her way inside. “There’s a line of grime leading up the stairs,” she pointed out. “Probably someone tracking dirt in with their boots.”

“Could be a sniper taking position,” Cloud suggested. “We move slowly.”

“Right,” Tifa nodded, although she was hardly worried about a single sniper. They were typically the least aware of their surroundings on the battlefield, fully focusing themselves on the direction of their aim rather than what was immediately around them. She’d dealt with enough before to know this, and yet she found it strange that a sniper could be so foolish as to leave dirt behind on their way to a spot that was supposed to be secret.

Unless…

“Get back!” Cloud was calling down to her as he reached the top, nearly tripping all the way down the staircase when he dodged a bullet aimed straight for his head. Tifa had reached out for him, ready to pull him away from the chaos, when another voice called out.

“…whooooops. Sorry, man, didn’t see you there,” Reno chuckled as he lowered his gun. A wide smile feigned indifference and amusement while his eyes clearly showed that, had Cloud not lowered his own weapon, he had been scared for his life. Everyone who knew him knew how capable he was with a big sword, _especially_ when acting on adrenaline. “Thought you were one of those whack jobs outside.”

Cloud exhaled deeply, feeling a mixture of relief and aggravation. “We came as soon as you called.”

Reno tipped his head in Tifa’s direction as she moved to stand beside Cloud. “I see that. Did ya get your bike back already or did you take my minivan suggestion to heart?” He waggled his eyebrows a bit, gaining a sound of “I’m done” from Cloud who walked forward and shoved Reno out of the way.

“Who else is with you? We need to move before more of those armored guys come back.”

“Rude and Elena are in the first room to your right,” Reno spoke in a mockingly enthusiastic tone, as if he was imitating a hotel manager. Cloud just kept walking to the door, and Tifa followed close behind, watching the staircase out of the corner of her eye.

Then, as she was relaxed, she asked, “What’s this about a minivan?”

Cloud cringed, stopping as he went to turn the doorknob, and Reno laughed at the side. Hoping to dissolve the question quickly, Cloud muttered, “Nothing important,” before pushing the door open. After taking in the scene – Rude standing by the table, bandages piled high, Elena lying unconscious – Cloud quickly began brainstorming. “It’s going to be hard making this work.”

Rude only briefly looked in Cloud and Tifa’s direction before focusing right back on Elena, whom he was treating with some ice on the swelling skin of her forehead. 

“You didn’t mention that she was like this,” Tifa told Reno before heading to Elena’s other side. 

“Well, how could I? Your boyfriend here moves too fast.”

Tifa merely rolled her eyes and took Elena’s left hand into her own. “She’s really weak. We won’t be able to treat her here. If only we could get her back to Edge…do you have a vehicle outside?”

“Let’s not forget about the enemy,” Cloud added, placing his sword in the sheathe on his back. “How many of those guys are there?”

“Probably three dozen of them,” Rude estimated, while Tifa quickly did the math. “But, Reno-“

“Cloud and I already took out at least ten of them on the way over.” She glanced up at Reno, and then at Rude, expectedly. “What about you guys?”

Reno deadpanned. “We fought hard.”

“She means how many did you kill,” Cloud got out dryly, folding his arms.

“Oh,” Reno cleared his throat awkwardly. “Like, maybe two…?”

Cloud actually _turned away_ from Reno as if he were ashamed to be in the same room as him, while Rude found himself unable to give Reno a look of reassurance or comfort. Tifa, on the other hand, shot her own partner a sharp look that quickly encouraged him to loosen up, but with a small, harmless smile. As Cloud turned back to Reno, the Turk could have almost sworn he saw a ghost of a pout on the ex-merc’s bottom lip.

_No,_ Reno was laughing in his head. _No, there’s no way he does that face around her. No way._

“So…” Cloud dragged the word out dramatically, looking between Rude and Reno and then at Elena. “Here’s the plan: Rude carries Elena, while Tifa and I lead the way and _you_ ,” Cloud roughly nudged Reno as he walked to the door, “can cover your own ass.”

“Charming,” Reno remarked. Fortunate to still have the gun in hand, he reached into his coat for his signature baton, which he held in the other hand. “There is something you should know, though.”

Cloud barely turned to acknowledge him, but Tifa’s eyes began widening with realization. “You called Cloud specifically. _Why_?”

“That’s what I was…getting to,” Reno interrupted his own nervous mess with a cough. “You see, their leader is pretty nuts. He wears this trench coat and a red mask, sounds like he’s speaking through a can of potato chips-“

“Move past all that – why me?” Cloud repeated for Tifa, now fully turned.

“He wanted you,” Reno answered bluntly, coming off shakier than Cloud or Tifa had ever heard him. “He, uh…” he laughed nervously, “he’s… _insane_ …”

“They took us by surprise,” Rude cut in, saying what Reno could not. “They only gave us so much distance because they needed Reno to make the call. After he did it, we were promised a fair fight.”

“Broke my phone afterwards, too,” Reno added bitterly, looking down at the floor. “I liked that one.”

“We don’t know why he wanted you,” Rude admitted finally, answering the question that had yet to be asked. “But if we didn’t call, then they would have killed us on the spot.”

Cloud wasn’t sure how to respond. The selfish, Shinra-hating side of him wanted to immediately lash out at Reno, telling him how much of a traitorous jerk he was to put himself and Tifa in danger just to save his own skin. But such an outburst was unlike Cloud – at least, that’s what he liked to think – and he kept his anger sealed in a jar. Instead, he moved to look out the window, and grimaced. “Their leader…he’s waiting for me?”

“Seems like it,” Reno answered dangerously, wincing a bit as he tried to avoid the eyes of both Cloud and Tifa. 

“Well, he’s going to have to learn to live with disappointment,” Cloud said unexpectedly, taking on a much lighter, less serious mood than what seemed appropriate. Even Tifa raised a confused eyebrow. “We’re getting out of here. Tifa and I will lead you to your vehicle, and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

“You think he’s just gonna let you go?” Reno shook his head in disbelief. “He went through all this trouble.”

“Yeah? Well, last I checked, this was a _fight_ , not a doctor’s office. He doesn’t get to make appointments.” Cloud left it at that, motioning for Tifa to follow him, and she did. He felt her hand grab his shoulder as he came to the stairs, followed by a quiet laugh.

“Be _nice_ ,” she warned teasingly, and his face softened.

“I’m being _plenty_ nice, Tifa. I’m helping them get out of here alive.” He stopped at the first landing, peering around with one hand ready on the hilt of his weapon. Though his eyes were trained elsewhere, he still noticed Tifa smirking at him. “If this is about the doctor’s office joke, then I have no excuses.”

“Yeah? You don’t usually do that with people like Reno, so I was just…surprised.”

“You mean that usually it’s less ‘joking’ around him and more ‘insulting’?”

Tifa sighed. “Yeah, something like that. Hear anything?” She liked missions like this, when it’d be the two of them sneaking around somewhere and depending on Cloud’s enhanced senses to pick up on when an enemy was nearby. He’d typically give her a window, tell her when to go, and she’d flank them. A repetitious but effective strategy, but one they didn’t get to take advantage of often. There was a reason for that, of course…

Just as Cloud said, “No, nothing,” creaking steps and poorly hushed voices announced that the Turks had left the room finally and followed behind them.

“You’re louder than my grandma’s old back,” Reno accused Rude, who only huffed in reply. He was, of course, holding Elena in his arms and trying his best to stay quiet despite the additional weight. If anything, it seemed to be _Reno_ causing the creaking to be that much louder.

“Shut up, Reno,” Cloud called back. “Seriously, I _can’t_ with that guy…”

“I heard that,” Tifa hummed amusedly beside him.

“Yeah, I know: being nice,” Cloud groaned. “On it. Hey, Rude,” he directed his next question, purposely not including Reno, “where’d you guys park?”

“The parking lot on the left. It’s the black sedan with the-“

“I know the one,” Cloud cut him off, immediately regretting doing so as Reno snickered behind him.

“Hey, you remembered. I’m _touched_ , Choco-head.” As if it had been a long while since Cloud had seen it. As if he hadn’t given in and let himself be driven back to Seventh Heaven in that car that _same_ day. Reno was a very confusing puzzle – _frustratingly, agonizingly_ confusing – and also the last issue Cloud wanted to put his mind to. Thoughts of quickly throwing the redheaded Turk in that stupid car and getting to be alone with Tifa like he had _wanted_ encouraged Cloud to pick up the pace a bit.

As soon as Cloud stepped into the open air, feeling the rays of sunlight attacking his eyes, he heard a soft, distant click. Tifa and the Turks hadn’t gasped or given any other kind of reaction, and so Cloud was extremely thankful for the Mako. “Get back!” he shouted as he caught sight of a lens scope in the window of another building, being exposed by light that reflected brightly off of it. There was a sudden flash, white and undoubtedly _hot_ , and Cloud only had a moment to react – to bring the broad end of his sword up to shield himself so he could dive back and cover Tifa-

The shot went off, quick and silent, but it whizzed by Cloud’s shoulder by several feet. Either the sniper was a terrible shot, or-

“Holy-!” Reno’s outburst was quickly sealed by Rude slapping a hand against his partner’s mouth, and then both Turks fell down to the floor. 

Cloud turned his head, confused at first, before the pieces came together. _They’re aiming for the Turks, not us._ What surprised him more was how close it had been to _Elena –_ to her sleeping, helpless form that would have died right there without a last scream or gasp of air. The sniper was aiming for the _wounded,_ a punishable and very shameful offense that Cloud vaguely remembered reading in his SOLDIER studies. He may not have made it in, but the vast knowledge in the textbooks preparing him for the tests still stuck with him after almost ten years.

_SOLDIER rule number twenty or whatever,_ Cloud mused to himself. _Don’t shoot a man when he’s down._

By now, Tifa had spotted the sniper in the window as well, and pulled Cloud along to find cover behind a large piece of rubble that the Turks had already crawled over to. “If we’re gonna get to that car, we have to run across in the open,” she spoke in between heavy breaths, and Cloud took a bit of comfort in the fact that he wasn’t the only one strangely and _excessively_ taken by surprise. It was just a sniper, and yet it had widened Cloud’s eyes more than any Shinra infantryman or monster ever had. 

_You’re just rusty,_ Cloud told himself. It had been a year since Sephiroth, after all. When was the last time he’d been forced to use his blade against anything with more than a single gun or sword?

“We’ll have to go across together,” Tifa was still speaking, pulling Cloud out of his internal questioning. Her hand was on his bicep, too, which he somehow hadn’t picked up on in the rush of things. “Your Fusion Sword is the only thing we have to block the shot with, and Rude still has to carry Elena.”

Cloud was nodding slowly, considering the implications, before his face lifted a bit and he began pulling his weapon apart. Tifa began to protest, but he continued anyway. After a moment, he held out one of the blades, watching as she cautiously and hesitantly accepted it. The weight only took a few seconds for her to get used to, and Cloud figured that would have to do.

“Cloud, without all of the pieces, the sword gets smaller.” He knew this, and she knew this, but this was beginning to look like one of those situations where Cloud _needed_ the reminder. 

“You remember that night I had you practice with it, right?” Cloud asked, pushing past her concern, but with a small smile that eased her conscience a bit. “If you don’t feel comfortable with it, then I’ll think of something else.” He was already holding his hand out again, as if he already saw something in her eyes that she wished he hadn’t seen (it was nervousness, of course), but Tifa shook her head.

“No, its fine,” she stated firmly, holding the hilt a bit tighter. “I remember what you taught me. When I run across, I’ll shield myself with it, and deflect the shot if the sniper has good aim.”

“Atta girl,” Cloud encouraged her, the odd yet amusing nature of his compliment not being lost on her. Under other circumstances, Tifa would have blushed. Well, she kinda still _was_ , but the urgency and weight of what she was preparing to do quickly overrode all of it. 

She glanced down at the oversized weapon, her eyes drinking in the shine and cleanliness of the metal, and the neatly carved grooves on one edge. She then realized just which blade Cloud had given her: the biggest one. He was still, in his unspoken way, keeping her safe above all, and his hand on her shoulder served to urge her further. For a moment, it was like she was three years younger again, wearing those cute red boots she still missed sometimes and running around with a stubborn “ex-SOLDIER” who was a stranger and an old friend all at once. 

“I’ll go first, and I want you right behind me,” Cloud instructed in a hushed tone, and as he turned back to the Turks, he stuck out a thumb over his shoulder. “You three stay on _this_ side of Tifa and I, and you’ll get home just fine. Keep in step with us, though, or that sniper will nab you the second you fall behind.”

“What happened to me covering my own ass?” Reno quipped, and Cloud could only breathe out deeply through his nose. Of _course_ he’d still be getting on his nerves in a life or death situation. To be perfectly honest, Cloud thought it’d be quiet uncharacteristic of Reno _not_ to at this point.

“If you’re so sold on the idea, then go ahead,” Cloud shot back without looking at him. 

“ _Cloud_ ,” Tifa started, but quickly stopped herself and shook her head. Now wasn’t the time, and Reno was the only one provoking anything. It was better to keep it that way.

“On my mark, we go,” Cloud spoke as he peeked around the rubble to spot the window. Sure enough, he could still see the sunlight reflecting off of the rifle’s scope, almost appearing like an all-seeing eye gazing down on the group with sharp perception. Cloud took a deep breath, waiting for Rude to readjust Elena in his arms.

Then he waved a finger and took off, running fast enough to cross the space quickly but not too fast for Rude to catch up. Fortunately, the tall man was faster than he looked, and kept up with Cloud just fine. Cloud was tempted to look back over his shoulder, to make sure Tifa was right behind him and was shielding herself with his sword just as he had told her to, but a mistake like that could cost his or her life. Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the next building they’d be taking cover behind, and kept running.

Once he crossed the line and was in the clear, Cloud immediately stopped, shoving his blade down into the pavement as a way of bringing himself to a complete stop quicker than he normally could. He whipped around, taking one hand to push Rude along behind him while his eyes shot across at Tifa, who was further behind than he’d expected. Worry wrinkled his brow, and as he held out a hand for her to catch as she came close, the shot went off.

Tifa was perceptive, swinging the sword up a bit higher to deflect the bullet, however the sudden jolt of her body caused her to stumble a bit – caused by overestimating the amount of force the shot would have – and she lost her balance. As she fell forward, another shot went off, which Tifa still managed to deflect, although now she had fallen to one knee and was now stationary, hiding her head behind the sword.

The third shot went off, but Cloud was quicker, rushing forward to block it and stand in front of Tifa. As soon as he felt the force of the shot bounce off heavy metal, he reached down for Tifa’s arm and pulled her to her feet. He managed to get her across to safety just before a fourth shot whizzed right past his ear. 

He fell onto his backside, pulling Tifa down with him, and she fell into his lap, with her front facing him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her deep red eyes full not of concern for herself, but for the idea that she’d somehow disappointed him. “I thought I had it under control, but the ground was uneven and it was so sudden, and-“

“Don’t,” Cloud warned her, still fighting to catch his breath while he looked her over for any blood. Thankful none of the shots had touched her, he finally helped her to her feet before standing on his own. His hand remained on one shoulder, keeping her turned to face him. “It was a bad idea, anyway. I haven’t had you practice with that thing in months.” His tone was still sharp and crisis-focused, and before Tifa could get the wrong idea, he softened up. “There’s nothing to feel sorry about.”

She just nodded silently, and then turned to Rude and Elena. “I’m just glad everyone got across okay.”

“Yeah, _barely_ ,” Reno wheezed, and it was then that Cloud finally remembered the Turk that had so easily slipped his mind the moment Tifa had been in danger. “You came back for your girl when she was down, but not for me. I almost feel hurt.”

Cloud actually _did_ feel a bit sorry, but he quickly shoved it down into whatever weird, Reno-sympathetic hole it came from. “I told you to cover your ass.”

To his surprise, Reno said nothing to argue back, and Cloud turned back to their objective.

“The car is right over there,” Rude found himself unable to point while holding Elena in his arms, and so he nodded his head in the general direction and hoped Cloud and Tifa would see it. 

“Yeah, not much further to go,” Tifa sighed in relief. “See any more snipers?”

“With that high fence around the parking lot, no one would have a clear shot,” Cloud shook his head, looking around. “None of the surrounding buildings are tall enough to have a window that high.” Not waiting for Reno’s comment – why would he? – Cloud took the lead. Ignoring the eerie silence that was swiftly returning, he stayed light on his feet and made a beeline for the sedan. Other than the sounds of the others’ footsteps – Tifa beside him, and the Turks close behind – Cloud heard nothing. 

Reno let out an exaggerated breath as he reached the car, planting his palms against the hood and quickly tearing them away after feeling the heat that had been absorbed over time. “Took us long enough. Get Elena into the back, Rude.”

“I’ll help,” Tifa volunteered quickly, sneaking herself behind Cloud to open one of the back doors. 

“You know what I said, right?” Reno asked Cloud, waiting until the ex-merc would look at him before opening the driver side door. “These guys’ leader is insane. He wouldn’t have made me call you in for no reason.”

Cloud grunted, looking away, but Reno persisted.

“Why even let me make the call in the first place, huh?” Reno pointed out, narrowing his eyes. “He could’ve just destroyed the phone and killed us on the spot, but he wanted to bait you in. The only reason Elena’s still alive is because he wants _you_.” Reno never sounded like this, this… _serious_. The usual smirk was hidden away somewhere, replaced with a frown of…concern?

Cloud preferred not to let his mind go there, and shook his head. “I understand what you’re saying, but I’ll take care of it if it becomes a problem.”

“’If’? Pal, it ain’t gonna be an ‘if.’ He’s out there, _waiting_ , probably sending out more of those armored guys to pursue us.”

“Not us – _you_ ,” Cloud countered, shoving Reno into the driver’s seat. “They purposely avoided shooting at me.”

“So…that means when they were shooting at Tifa…”

“…they were aiming for you,” Cloud nodded. “She just happened to be the one covering you with the giant sword.” Thoughtfully, Cloud looked back at the building they’d come from, noting the piled rubble. “No wonder they took so long to fire. They were making sure they hit the right guy.”

“Exactly my point,” Reno folded his arms. “Now that you and Tifa are out here, they don’t have to worry about disposing of us.”

“We need to get moving,” Rude cleared his throat as he slammed the back door shut and Tifa did the same on the other side. To her surprise, however, he held the passenger side door open for Tifa, gesturing for her to climb inside. 

“Uh, yeah, no.” Cloud held a hand in front of Tifa, gave a sideways glance at Rude, and gently pulled Tifa away. He could feel her glancing at him even when his eyes were trained on the earlier building again. She was most likely rolling her eyes again or stifling a laugh, Cloud assumed, but there was no time to check. “We need to get back to Fenrir.”

“Hmm? Oh, right,” Tifa agreed, waving back at the sedan and the passengers inside. “Hopefully they’ll do alright on their own. And they should be able to get Elena proper attention somewhere in Edge, right?”

“Shouldn’t have a problem with that,” Cloud nodded. He watched the car pull away and speed off down the street. “If Reno keeps heading in that direction, there’s the smaller hospital right after entering town. As for _us_ …” he trailed off, clutching his weapon in one hand as he began walking. The area was still painfully silent, so much so that it caused the hairs on Cloud’s neck to stand straight. Fortunately, there weren’t any more snipers in sight, and a quick glance at the path behind the other buildings confirmed Cloud’s suspicion: they could take the back alleys all the way back to Fenrir, and the small space would hide them from any windows.

Tifa seemed to notice as well, as she was already moving ahead of him to clear the path of debris. Cloud grabbed it as well, helping to lift the chunk and toss it aside. After a quick look around, he went in first, holding his part of the Fusion Sword in front of him defensively while his other hand was held between him and Tifa, ready to grab her in the case of a surprise attack. 

“It smells awful,” she commented, holding the bridge of her nose with the hand that wasn’t holding her part of the sword. She watched her step as they came across rough sheets of metal sticking up out of the ground, carefully making her way across. “I mean, Midgar _always_ smelled bad, at least in all the sectors _I_ ever visited.”

Cloud hummed in agreement, thinking to himself before asking, “Did you always live in Sector 7? I mean, you mentioned Marle helping you get set up, but were you always there? After Nibelheim?” Uttering the name of that old place no longer stung as much as it used to, and since Tifa no longer winced at it either, he assumed she felt more comfortable with it too. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Tifa shrugged. “I would often cross into some of the other sectors to buy groceries for the bar. Sometimes the food was cheaper. But, yeah, Seventh Heaven was pretty much always home right after Nibelheim.” After a moment, she added, “I’m surprised you never asked.”

“Guess I felt content knowing where you are now, rather than before,” Cloud admitted quietly, sounding strangely distant. His back was turned to her as he continued his way down the alley, which didn’t help things. “I also wasn’t sure what to think about some of the stuff that happened before Mideel. I was still _there_ , but my head wasn’t…all there, I guess.”

“Hmm,” was Tifa’s only response. She knew the subject was still a bit touchy – she’d feel the same if she found out she’d been living with multiple personalities controlling her head for so long – but it wasn’t one that Cloud was afraid to discuss with her. She took comfort in that thought, but it didn’t mean it was any easier for _her_ to talk about either. 

Cloud was Cloud. He had been Cloud and no one else for three years now. That was more than enough.

“I can see Fenrir just up ahead,” Cloud whispered back to Tifa as he finally exited the alley. “Just a bit further-“

He froze at the sounds of guns being cocked all around him. Five at the left, five at the right – and it would’ve been no problem for him if it hadn’t been for the last figure standing straight ahead, positioning himself between Cloud and Fenrir. Reno had been right about the trench coat and red mask, reminding Cloud of a bomb monster and Tifa of a cherry tomato – a comparison she didn’t have the luxury of smiling at.

“You finally came,” the leader spoke, his voice clearly being stretched and modified by some kind of filter under the mask. It made him sound abnormally imposing, almost _demonic_ , and Cloud didn’t like it at all. He was backing up now, trying to get Tifa back into the alley, until she made a sound of surprise as the butt of another gun jabbed at her from behind. 

“Don’t think I didn’t have this planned out,” the leader scoffed, watching without movement as Cloud and Tifa both reluctantly stepped forward. “You can refer to me as Caster. I’ve waited a long time to arrange our meeting.” 

“Back away,” Cloud demanded, the end of his sword gently tipping back and forth as he looked around. “I don’t have any business with you.”

“Perhaps I can change your mind,” Caster’s voice lightened a bit, and his head gently cocked to the side as if to say, _‘go on. Ask me.’_

“He’s not interested,” Tifa spoke up from right behind Cloud, readying her stance. “But I _would_ like a few answers. We know you purposely avoided shooting at us. Why?”

Caster moved to the side, dipping his masked head down as he took a few hobbling steps in one direction and then swapped to the other. His hands clasped together over and over as he went. “I just want to talk.”

“We’re talking now,” Cloud’s eyes darkened a bit, his cold glare following this strange figure’s every movement. “Why were you after the Turks?”

“No, no, that’s not how this is going to work,” Caster waved a mocking finger at him. “Not while my men have their guns pointed at your heads. Until the tables change, you listen to _me_.”

As if to add extra emphasis, most of the soldiers shifted their positions a bit, straightening their weapons while the metal of their armor pieces quietly rubbed against each other. 

“So talk,” Cloud pressed with that same lowered tone. “You’re wasting our time.”

“Alright,” Caster laughed beneath his mask, coming out raspy and ear-piercing through the modulator. “Alright. I guess I can cut to the chase here: you’re in a bit of hot water, aren’t you?” When Cloud and Tifa gave no response, only lowering the eyes to the floor, Caster continued. “I mean, all it takes is a quick walk through Edge, hearing all of the gossip from people outside...” he shrugged his shoulders, shaking the trench coat a bit. “Most people in the area at least know _something’s_ inevitably going to go down soon. People eat that stuff up like warm biscuits.”

_Weirdo,_ Cloud thought. “Where are you going with this? I want my bike back.” 

Caster leaned back a bit, stealing a quick glance at Fenrir, and shrugged again. “And it’ll be yours again soon, don’t worry. As long as you consider what I’m about to offer you.” Cloud seemed cautiously intrigued, and so Caster gladly continued. Reaching into his pocket, he dug around for a moment before pulling out a small, rectangular device that only covered a small portion of his gloved palm. Caster fiddled with it between his fingers and then waved it around. “I think you’ll find this to be extremely helpful.”

“A flash drive,” Cloud stated. “What’s on it?” His attention was still focused on the armed soldiers, on the alley behind him, on the small amount of space he’d have to cross to get back to Fenrir and _leave_ -

“Peter Drune; I assume you’ve spoken with him recently?”

“How’d you know that?”

“You’re thinking I’ve been spying on you,” Caster accused before shaking his head. “I can see it in your eyes. But, no, I have not. I only say this because of the police report that came in just last night.” He watched Tifa’s expression falter, and continued. “You’re fortunate that I intercepted it.”

_How?_ Cloud looked the man over, noting his bizarre but somewhat inexpensive getup, and the way that he wasn’t even holding his own weapon. Caster was completely unarmed, walking back and forth and getting as close to Cloud as he could despite the giant sword that could cut him down in a second. This man was brave – _dangerously_ so – and it sent an odd sense of dread through Cloud that he hadn’t felt in a while. How could someone appear so threatening and _in control_ without even holding a weapon?

“I’ve been doing my homework,” Caster explained vaguely, answering the question that had so far gone unasked. “Peter Drune is quite the complicated character, as are you, Cloud Strife. He made a call to the police station about an hour after you left his house, or at least that’s what he claimed. It made me curious as to whether or not the man had begun to regret the promises he made in that letter.” 

“Otherwise he would have just made the call,” Cloud nodded slowly. “What exactly are you telling me this for?” His eyes shot back to the flash drive.

“Peter Drune may be a man full of grief, but he is not without sin. This drive contains information that will serve not only as proof of his rather… _disturbing_ history of offenses, but will also clear your names.”

Tifa’s breath hitched a bit, and Cloud hated how surprised and almost _excited_ she looked. The interest dancing in her glassy eyes stung. “H-how?” she asked, her voice somewhat shaky. It was clear that she was trying her best to swallow her reaction.

“Peter Drune wasn’t Peter Drune three years ago,” Caster said it with a light scoff, closing his fist tightly around the flash drive. “And only a few months before that, he was another person. He’s taken on many different identities over the years, all so he can cover up the things he’s done.”

“All this would do is put another man in court,” Cloud sighed. “It won’t help me and Tifa if his past has nothing to do with us.”

“Oh?” Caster stepped forward a bit. “Before he was Peter Drune, he was Alex Jarrus…commanding officer of a platoon of Shinra troops in Wutai.”

Cloud arched his neck. “I don’t believe you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, not until you see the contents for yourself,” Caster nodded. “But one matter still remains: what will I have you do for it?”

Cloud let out a nasty sound of distaste, stepping forward with his Fusion Sword rising-

“Ah, save that anger!” Caster taunted him mockingly, stepping away as a few of the soldiers began approaching Cloud. “Using it all on me would be a waste. I’m more than willing to hand this over to you if you do as I ask.”

“You’re a real salesman,” Tifa spoke up, staring at Caster with piercing, uncertain eyes. The one part of the Fusion Sword was still held in both of her hands, and the way she gripped it so confidently filled Cloud with a bit of pride. “Shove all the nice details in our faces, flaunt around how much we could do with it, and then you explain the catch. Can’t say I’m surprised this is coming from someone who hides his face.”

“I prefer to have the mask on,” Caster raised a hand defensively. “Just a preference, I assure you.”

“Name your price,” Cloud said, his voice actually sounding less aggressive. His shoulders relaxed and his blade lowered. “As long as you promise to let us go right after.”

“ _Right_ after?” After getting no reply, Caster sighed behind the voice modulator. “Very well. I never intended to shoot you anyway. The guns were just a precaution, to make sure you didn’t attack me before I could speak.”

“Thanks,” Cloud commented under his breath. In a quick, sudden movement, Cloud leapt into the air and made use of his Ice Materia again, dusting the ground in a thick sheet that sent the soldiers falling onto their backsides hopelessly. Cloud landed carefully, watching his own step, before confronting Caster, who had managed to stay upright. “You talk too much.” At the sound of guns clicking, Cloud whipped around, only to find that Tifa had taken them out. _Every last one of them._

“I sure hope you didn’t kill them,” Caster sighed, sounding defeated. “I assume you didn’t. From the data I’ve gathered, I’ve never known you to take lives unnecessarily, Miss Lockhart.”

“Shut up,” Cloud spat before grabbing a handful of Caster’s shirt and forcing his attention. “I’m not interested in making deals with people who hold me and Tifa at gunpoint, or start street fights with the Turks.”

“ _That_ was what I was meaning to ask you at a later time. Your relationship with the Turks – I assume it is not one you adapted to so easily?”

“I’m not answering that. Either give us the flash drive under zero conditions or leave with it. Either way, I don’t care.” Cloud had begun to turn away when Caster made a small sound of realization.

“You just need more motivation. More… _incentive_.”

“To do what?”

“Kill Rufus Shinra,” Caster’s voice lowered, almost to a whisper. “I know he is alive. There were only rumors at first, but in the year since the Geostigma was resolved, there is resounding proof. He is still leading the Turks, isn’t he?” Cloud didn’t answer, not that he was surprised. “You know the things he’s done – the people he’s hurt, the lives he’s ruined. Shinra has harmed this Planet beyond repair, and now he even _admits_ it.”

“So what?” Cloud scoffed. “I’m not after revenge, and I don’t work for the authorities. It’s not my place to kill him.”

“Do it, and the flash drive is yours,” Caster offered blatantly, holding his hand out. “I’ll even give it to you _now_ , just so you know I’m genuine.”

“That’s an awful lot of trust you’re putting in us,” Tifa observed, coming to stand right beside Cloud. 

“That is my own problem to worry about,” Caster shrugged his shoulders. “But yes, I trust that if you take this drive now, you will kill Rufus Shinra before the week draws to a close.”

Cloud hesitated, looking for this man’s angle.

“We should take time to think about it,” Tifa whispered to him, her free hand wrapping around his left bicep. “A decision like this is too big to rush out.”

“I understand that,” Caster nodded, and then pulled out another item from his pocket. It was a small index card, and as he held it out to Tifa, he explained, “This is a number you can contact when you’ve made your decision. I recommend doing it discreetly, though, preferably on an anonymous line. Anything and everything can be tracked these days.”

Tifa reluctantly took the card and slipped it into the pocket of her overhauled shorts where her notepad for taking orders at the bar was still inside. “We should go, Cloud.”

Cloud just nodded, not taking his eyes off of Caster for a long, hard moment. “I’d better not see you causing trouble. Otherwise, this whole flash drive thing will be behind us and I’ll kill you anyway.”

“Fighting words,” Caster chuckled. “I like your style, Strife. Stay safe out there, it’s a dangerous world.”

_The hell is that supposed to mean?_ Cloud pushed past Caster with Tifa right behind him, heading for Fenrir. 

_Kill Rufus, and you get your life back. That’s all you have to do._

Had this occurred three years before, Cloud would have had no problem with it. He had changed since then, and so had Tifa. The hatred both of them had held in their hearts toward Shinra had mainly dissipated. The company was only a small remnant of survivors, led by a shady ex-president who most people didn’t know was even still alive.

_Kill Rufus, get your life back. Simple._

He hoped the weekend would never come.


End file.
